


How To Fish For Clouds

by Rejar



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Coffee, F/M, Fashionista, Gen, Humor, Slow Romance, Sunglasses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4199061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rejar/pseuds/Rejar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It goes without saying that Reborn only ever introduces the most troublesome of people to Tsuna. A provocative informant with a sharp tongue, caffeine addiction and a healthy dose of narcissism is no exception there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Benivieni Fiona

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own _Katekyō Hitman Reborn!_ in any way or shape. Credit goes to Akira Amano for creating the series and making writing this possible.

The woman out in the snowy streets clearly didn't come from the small city of Namimori. It wasn't the branded coat nor the strange antics that made her stick out—wearing sunglasses in the middle of winter, the youth these days!—nor the fact that her hair was a bright caramel color typical to foreigners. No, it was that much simpler.

She couldn't read Japanese Kanji for her dear life.

For the past hour she'd cocked her head from one side to the other in a vain attempt to decipher the markings on the road signs. One way or another she always ended up back at the same junction. The crowd simply passed her by in the beginning. Then they started approaching her with broken English, offering help in the most friendly manner that was common to this quaint place. She'd just as friendly declined—in fluent Japanese.

Word spread around and they left the strange foreigner in peace again.

She took another chance with a random road. She wound up in front of the road sign. People started pitying her.

The woman righted her shades. Unbeknownst to the general public, she was exactly where she needed to be. Still, things were getting frustrating.

All she needed was to reach a school, he'd said. Her target would loiter somewhere along the way. She glanced at the time on her watch, then left and right down the street of her misery. The school building loomed over her shoulder, just a block away and always in line of sight. Her boots crunched indecisively through the snow when she eventually spotted something in the corner of her eyes that made her face light up like a belated christmas tree.

An elderly couple looked on in curiosity as the foreigner moved with renewed vigor. She crossed the gap between her and a pair of boys clad in black leather jackets with wide strides and an even wider grin. No longer aimless, no sir. "Time to ask some directions," she mused aloud.

And once still waters rippled gently at the start of something new.

* * *

"Juudaime! What are your plans for today?" Gokudera asked with a goofy grin once he caught up with Tsuna among the mass of students.

The smaller boy looked up into the clear blue winter sky as they walked towards the entrance of the school. For once they had little to no homework or supplementary classes to do. It was an after-school Monday right out of the books, the air crisp with nearing spring. "I don't know. Maybe go to the—"

"He has plans," a familiar squeaky voice interrupted him mid-sentence. Just as the two boys started searching the close vicinity for the source, the school's courtyard next to them opened up and spew Reborn out at their feet, all fedora and smug smile.

"How many of these do you have?!" Tsuna exclaimed incredulous. Then the baby's words actually registered. "And what sort of plans? I never agreed to anything."

"Well, it's a little spontaneous." He did _not_ like the sound of 'spontaneous' and 'Reborn' in one sentence. At all. But Reborn turned to look at him in the most cutesy baby way he'd recently developed, big button eyes wavering ever so slightly. "I thought you'd enjoy going on a date," he mock-pouted.

Against all his suspicions Tsuna's mind betrayed him for the briefest of seconds and his cheeks heated up despite the cold. "D-D-Date?" _With Kyoko-chan...!_

"That's great, Juudaime!" The silver-haired boy shook him wildly in his excitement. "I knew you could do it!"

"I didn't do anything," he retorted quickly with stars dancing in front of his vision. Tsuna snapped his head back to Reborn. "And I refuse! Last time you arranged a date, the whole zoo broke out!" Most of that day he'd rather banish to the depths of his mind. Kyoko-chan did look very cute, though...

Reborn vaulted high into the air and kicked him in the head that it jerked to the side violently. "Pervert." Before Tsuna could even stutter a protest, Reborn casually nestled himself and Leon on his throbbing head. "Just the two of you, in a café. What could possibly go wrong?"

Somehow he could imagine a great number of things involving the Mafia. None of Reborn's words were ever reassuring. None of his plans without _some_ sort of hook attached.

So why did he find himself dragged in front of a coffee shop ten minutes later?

"Nobody gets a 'no' when I say it..." he weeped with hunched shoulders.

Gokudera grinned from one ear to the other and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Even through the woolen winter uniform it sent a shiver down his spine instead of motivating him. "Don't worry. I'll root for you from the sidelines." He pointed at one of the empty tables visible through the fogged glass. "You go in first!"

 _That's the opposite of what I want,_ he thought to himself as he placed a hand on the door handle. Trying to stop him once his mind was set he wouldn't even bother with. Gokudera would just give him a _very_ scary face. Tsuna took a deep breath instead and braced himself for whatever was waiting in store for him. His heart beat furiously at the idea of having an actual, perhaps even _normal_ date with Kyoko-chan. A proper one this time. Some sort of apology from Reborn for his earlier doings, maybe.

He pressed the handle down and entered.

The inside was populated but not overly crowded. A steady buzz of voices and laughter reached his ears and warmth embraced his body the moment the door shut close behind with a bright jingle. The smell of spices and sweets made his mouth water but he shook his head to focus back on the task at hand.

His hands became sweaty and he gulped as he searched the cozy interior for a familiar bright brown head of hair. To his demise all he could spot were either couples or groups of girls, mainly from his school at that. With a lowered head, as if his feet were the most interesting thing in the world, he wound his way through the maze of tables. Maybe he'd come too early? Or too late? Did Reborn even mention a time? He could just order something and leave quickly to spare himself the humiliation of getting dumped in public—

"Over here, Dame-Tsuna."

"HIE!" He twitched violently, expecting a kick from any direction. When nothing came, he creaked open a lid only to spot Reborn looking him straight in the eye from his perched position at one of the dark tables. "Reborn!" Tsuna exclaimed after his initial start had worn off. "What are you doing here?" If he was here, somehow disguised as a waiter or something else unbelievable, the date would go to hell faster than he could flee the café.

It was then he noticed the pair of crossed legs beneath the table, dark boots trailing all the way up to the knees. His eyes wandered higher; from hands to shoulders to a smile—

Reborn stretched his hand out in the female's direction. "This is Benivieni Fiona. Your date from Italy."

—and a pair of sunglasses glinting expectantly.

It was clear as day.

_MAFIA!_

* * *

The snow crunched beneath the boy's soles as he bent down on eye level with the two beaten members of his Disciplinary Committee. One was awake, the mobile with which he'd called still clutched between his fingers, but his head hung low and dipped to the side repeatedly.

The dark-haired boy brushed a tonfa across his jaw, turning the downed man's attention to him. The once regent hairstyle glistened with melted snow and stuck wetly to his face, looking as exhausted as its owner. "Who did this?" he asked once they locked gazes.

A black bruise formed around one eye socket, swelling and shutting the lid. There were no other visible injuries on him. One glance to the right assured the same of the unconscious one; mirroring only a similar bruised eye. Now what could have possibly taken them out as swiftly and efficiently as this?

Chilled from the cold, pale lips muttered weakly at first, but the beaten man quickly caught himself when he received a piercing, steel-hard glare instead of mercy. "A foreigner. A w-woman." He gulped. Large fingers fumbled a crumpled piece of paper from his leather jacket. "She dropped this..."

He plucked the note from him and his eyes slanted to a dangerous expression.

Someone was going to get punished. _  
_

* * *

Tsuna was nervous. Silence had befallen the table as soon as Reborn had disappeared. He was also painfully aware of the curious looks the classmates who recognized him gave him after he'd startled the whole ship with his scream. Now they'd mutter all sorts of things behind his back about how he met up with strange women all alone. An adult even! He clenched his eyes close, praying for this to end. What would Kyoko-chan think once she heard of this?

"Relax. I'm not gonna bite you." He snapped his eyes open when he felt fingers ghost across his fidgety knuckles. The woman—Fiona—smiled warmly. Her braided hair had slipped over one shoulder when she reached out to him. The rolled up sleeves of the red cardigan revealed smooth, slightly tanned skin.

He was just about to open his mouth when the waitress brought them their drinks. He hadn't managed anything more than a stuttered "Hot chocolate, please", too befuddled was his mind with the current situation and how to best get out of it before it escalated as so many others Reborn placed him in. Fiona on the other hand had expertly ordered coffee and even made smalltalk with the serving female, showing off a maturity and calm he envied a little given the current circumstances.

"Maybe I should formally introduce myself again before you suffocate on your own doubts," she began as she poured some milk into the black drink. He hadn't even noticed her pulling her fingers back. Maybe he'd imagined the contact in the first place? The air she gave off was calm and confident but somehow... slippery, if he had to put a word to it. 

The liquid brightened to a slightly darker shade than her hair. "I am part of the Vongola family." She placed the cup to her lips, smiling against the rim. "And I came here mainly out of curiosity. Won't bother you with the details, Tsuna. Know that I mean no premeditated harm."

 _Premeditated harm?_ If that doesn't sound like a few people he knew... "Sounds just like a combination of Dino-san and Gokudera-kun," he muttered as he cupped his drink to warm his fingers. Combining the outer appearance of Dino with the possible danger of the bomber, who really only ever acted out in self-defense, as he proclaimed. Then stuff gets destroyed anyway. Therefore Tsuna was wary. After all, the last Italian female that had visited him had been Bianchi. And she was _still_ out to kill him.

She perked up at the names. "Dino was here? Well, that's news. Why did no one tell me?" She puffed up her cheeks sulkily that the sunglasses bounced once.

"He likes to neglect his work to spend more time with his little brother." _Eh?_ Tsuna turned his head left and right. That was definitely Reborn's voice. But where did he hide this time?

Fiona didn't seem to notice the inconsistency. "Little brother?" She cocked her head to the side before she realized and pointed towards him. "Oh, that's cute. Kind of fitting, too, with both of you being Reborn's students and all."

Tsuna stopped in his search for said tutor. "You know?"

"Information is my job." The shades glinted dangerously. Tsuna gulped. Come to think of it, why hadn't she taken them off yet? The lights were dim enough as it was. Or did she hide some horrifying secret that would turn those that saw her eyes to stone? Did she even have eyes?

He took a quick gulp of his drink to calm the shudders racing up and down his body. Better not think too much about it. Just knowing she was part of the Mafia was a dangerous information on its own.

She leaned back into her seat, cup between her fingers and looking as if she wished to be nowhere else in the world. "Besides, that's how I first met Dino. Kind of stumbled across him in the Italian mountain range close to where I live. Guy was desperate to escape his training."

"E-Escape?" _Well, I'm not going to judge him for trying..._

"Good old times," Grandpa Reborn complemented with a shake of his head. Tsuna almost spew his drink out when he saw the usual fedora gone and a fake white beard glued to the baby's face. He brushed Fiona's braid away like a vine and showcased his newest look sitting on her shoulder. So that's where he's been hiding!

"I caught him before he could reach civilization, though," he continued proudly, waving his mini-crutch around.

Tsuna pointed a trembling finger in Reborn's direction. "You're just a baby! Don't go talking about old times!" He clutched his own hair and leaned in close, glancing to the side to check whether anybody was eavesdropping. "And stop talking so casually about such dangerous topics," he whispered harshly. The last thing he wanted was for the rest of the city to know he was affiliated with the Mafia.

While he couldn't read Reborn's emotion behind the attached beard, Fiona apologized in his stead. "Of course. You've grown up in civilian surroundings. Let's not be this insensitive, shall we, Reborn?"

Tsuna's face softened at the words and he finally noticed something that made her stand apart from Gokudera or even Dino. She offered a try at normalcy. No pressure. No strange antics to put up with (well, maybe apart from the sunglasses). It was a sort-of regular conversation with no word about being the Tenth. She was first trying to calm him down and make it comfortable. And it almost worked until Reborn decided to show up again.

Of course fate decided to poke at his happy bubble right then and there.

Seemingly keeping the flow of _normal_ going, Fiona picked up the conversation. "Oh, yeah. What's the deal with those Elvis impersonators? I actually found two, believe it or not," she asked Grandpa Reborn as she sipped some more of her coffee. Elvis Impersonators? A certain regent hairstyle popped up in the back of his mind but he shoved the memory away. Impossible. It couldn't be. There's no reason she'd have anything to do with them. No premeditated harm, right? He reached for his hot chocolate. She wasn't going to look for trouble if she knew better, right?

"Did you _greet_ them?" he asked back, all normal and non-Mafia as asked.

Right?

"In our typical fashion." She smiled innocently. "I even _carelessly_ left the note with our meeting to trace back to me."

Right, please?

Reborn nodded solemnly. "Good job. I knew I could count on you." His eyes glinted schemingly in Tsuna's direction. "Now all we have to do is deal with the Elvis Leader, right, Tsuna?"

He inhaled his chocolate. A coughing fit shook his body and Fiona reached out to calm him but his mind screamed in panic. _Elvis Leader?!_ They couldn't mean _him,_ right? That's just impossible. Im-po-ssi-ble.

"Fiona could be in great danger," Reborn whispered to him as he landed on the table surface. Tsuna paled. He really meant _him._ How in the world had this conversation spiraled down to this. Why would he do that sort of thing?! As he glanced over to the woman patting his coughing back, he realized that she might've become victim to Reborn's scheme just like him. What to do—?

"She couldn't have known what she'd been doing," the miniscule grandpa added. With no remorse whatsoever.

Tsuna's face derailed in utter shock. Definitely a victim! They're both victims!

As if to pop the last piece of his bubble, the door crashed open behind him.

The bell was still jingling when Fiona looked past him to the newest guest entering. "Oh, isn't that Smokin' Bomb?" _Oh no._ Why did he have a bad feeling churning up in his stomach? It must be the cold breeze that entered when the door opened. It had nothing to do with the fact that the smell of tobacco and smoke suddenly filled his nostrils. Or that Fiona-san apparently _provoked_ the Disciplinary Committee. And that Reborn looked in his direction with those planning, scheming, baby button eyes. And all this happened over the course of two minutes without even the mention of anything Mafia-related because that's oh-so insensitive!

He was hyperventilating.

"Step away from Juudaime right now."

_Oh no._

Tsuna gathered the last shred of non-panic he had left and turned around with his hands raised, palms up. "G-Gokudera-kun, everything's al— _HIEEE!_ Put down the dynamite!" There stood the silver-haired genius from Italy with a fuming face, a lit cigarette... and about half a dozen dynamite sticks readied for battle. And all Tsuna managed was bubble up the rest of his inhaled hot chocolate all over his clothes while screaming.

In the meantime, a wave of sighs and swoons erupted from one corner of the shop. "Gokudera-sama!" Oh, no! The girls from school were still in the shop. And they were completely oblivious to anything once they got enamored by his looks!

"He sure is popular," Fiona commented lightheartedly, still rubbing soothing circles across Tsuna's back. Not helping!

Gokudera crossed the distance between them with such great speed, Tsuna could do nothing but blink stupidly. He grabbed a handful of her cardigan and shoved the sticks into her face, inches away from her nose. The cigarette hanging from his lips, he could light them with the slightest tilt of his head. "I said: step away," he snarled low and dangerous, " _Fisher._ "

Tsuna froze in his frenzy momentarily. _Eh?_ What did fishing have to do with this? He shook his head. No time to get caught off-guard on random words. He had to defuse the situation as quickly as possible or somebody would get hurt badly. Mainly he. "Gokudera-kun, listen to me—"

"Don't trust anything she says, Juudaime," he interrupted but didn't take his eyes off her once. Tsuna couldn't understand the world any more. What was going on now? How had it spiraled down to this new kind of trouble? Weren't they from the same family?!

The warm smile around Fiona's lips turned stale and mirthless. "Why would I do any harm to him? His tutor is right there." What was once slippery around her turned cold and edged and dangerous.

Gokudera's hold on her tightened. "Don't play coy with me." The tension was palpable. Any moment a terrible fight would break out and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

The door crashed open again and all heads spun around to the newest intruder.

Hibari Kyoya stood in the doorway, tonfas drawn for a fight.

Tsuna stared at the prefect's bloodthirsty eyes. At the orange glowing end of the cigarette. At the swooning girls in the back. At the unyielding shades hiding something. This was just too much at once.

He fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> Nah, just kidding. We're only starting! Welcome to How To Fish For Clouds—The AO3 Edition! Because I wanna test out how it's like writing over here. :)


	2. The Foreigner and the Skylark

Tsuna groaned as he regained consciousness. His head throbbed like crazy. He placed a hand on it as if that would ease the pain or the dizziness he felt and forced his body to sit up. The motion immediately had him seeing stars and toppling sideways.

"Juudaime! Are you alright?" Gokudera yelled, grabbing him tightly by his shoulders. His voice rung uncomfortably loud in Tsuna's ears but he shook off the ringing as best he could.

"Ugh. What happened?"

Gokudera smiled in relief. "With your perfectly timed fainting you helped us avoid the eye of the storm! Not that I wouldn't have stood my ground in the battle but I had to take care of you first," he added proudly.

Tsuna frowned. "What battle?" Then all the memories suddenly rushed back. "Oh my god, Hibari-san actually appeared!" He looked around but there was a definite lack of a female person. This was _not_ a good start. Not good at all. "Where's Fiona-san?"

Instead of answering, his friend's features darkened visibly. "I told you she's dangerous..." Tsuna frowned at the words and got back up on his feet, dusting some snow off his pants. Then he took the scenery before him in for the first time.

Where the fogged windows of the café had once invited him inside there was nothing left of them any longer but a gaping hole in the wall. The door hung askew. Brick and chunks of glass lay strewn across the concrete; a street lamp was bent in the middle, top touching the ground and its light broken to pieces. It was a scene of utter destruction.

"D-Did she do all of this...?" He couldn't believe it. She'd seemed so normal.

Gokudera peeked over his shoulder. "Oh, this?" He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I bombed us a way out. Don't worry about it, Juudaime. Looks worse than it is." Tsuna stared at him, mouth agape. _You're the only one that's dangerous here!_

It took him a few utterly shocked seconds to gather back his senses. "Looks worse than it is?! What happened to the guests inside?!" he yelled increduled.

"Everybody already fled when Hibari's and that chick's fight started. My first priority was getting you out and to safety. Hibari's furious."

Tsuna felt shivers travel down his spine. He was glad he didn't get to meet an angry Hibari anytime soon again. Their last meeting was still etched into his memory with a very negative taste. "Thanks," he eventually drawled out with a tiny voice.

Together they made their way through the rubble. Best get out of here before the repair costs ended up stuck with him again. Gokudera lit a cigarette between his lips. "I wonder why Hibari wanted to attack her that badly. I mean _I_ have actual reasons but those two shouldn't know each other."

"I-I think she attacked some of his men..." Tsuna trailed off uneasily, paling at his own words once he spoke them aloud. That nice woman actually attacked members of the Disciplinary Committee. Okay, she was Mafia after all. But still, you had to be out of your mind to willingly attack those delinquents! "Why would she do that?" Then again she was a foreigner and new to Namimori. She couldn't have known the consequences of her actions. Reborn even said so.

Gokudera let out a puff of smoke. "Beats me. It doesn't matter anyway. I don't trust her."

"If that's your issue with older people again..." _It's stupid,_ he finished mentally. They already went through it once with Dino.

"But The Fisher doesn't appear without a reason!" he threw back agitated, trying to save his dignity. Tsuna furrowed his brows. Again with the fishing. "She's disappeared for two years and now she pops up _here_ out of all places? Something's not adding up. She's got to have a—"

"That's right." The boys spun around at the sound of the voice. Reborn sat on one of the gray walls shielding the house's garden. Leon crawled across his lap.

Gokudera's usual frown deepened if that was even possible. "Do you know the real reason she's here, Reborn-san?" He placed an arm protectively over Tsuna's chest as if it dawned on him suddenly. "Is it to spy on the Tenth?! Who's paying for the information—I'm going to kill him!"

No way! A spy? "Can somebody tell me what's going on here?!"

Reborn righted his hat. " _I_ called her."

* * *

"Just to make it clear again: I still don't want to do this," Gokudera stated with crossed arms and a clearly annoyed expression. He leaned back against a house wall and as far away from the group as was acceptable.

Yamamoto laughed lightheartedly. "Come on. It'll be fun. It's a real life treasure hunt!"

That comment alone sunk his mood even lower and he groaned unnerved. He pointed one finger from its crossed place at the crouching black-head. "Who invited the baseball freak to this?"

"This is a Vongola Rescue Team. Of course he's part of the operation," Detective Reborn answered instantly with his chic, checkered coat. "This also makes for good tracking training." He pulled out a magnifying glass and looked at them with one enormous eye. "The snow leaves distinctive trails to follow."

Tsuna had to withstand the urge to bang his head against the nearby wall. "Stop dragging innocent people into this, Reborn! This is not a game!" _Yamamoto, please leave now. It's your last chance!_ The boy just smiled, glad to have something to play, unable to hear Tsuna's inner pleading.

The enlarged eye blinked twice. "But every player is a Vongola mafioso. The Mafia isn't innocent."

"Nobody is from the Mafia but you!" he screeched back. Tsuna craned his neck up into the sky. It was still as clear blue as before but somehow the fleeting thought of relaxation seemed so far away now. How did the day turn out like this?! "If you hadn't called Fiona-san over she wouldn't have to worry about _dying_ right now," he whined. "You purposedly let her deal with Hibari-san on her own!"

Reborn stared at him. "Well, you fainted, Gokudera carried you off. Somebody had to lure him away in the meantime." He flicked some dirt off his coat. "At least she reacted quickly. That's true Mafia spirit."

"Stop rubbing salt into my wound! I know I lack—Wait, I don't even want that kind of spirit!"

"So, who are we looking for?" Yamamoto asked eager and ever so optimistic. He pointed at the laid out map of Namimori on the streets.

Detective Reborn pulled out a booklet and scanned its contents. "About 165cm tall, Italian, female, thinks too much of herself, takes in unhealthy amounts of coffeine, also a sunglasses fetishist—" _What sort of information did he gather?! They're useless!  
_

"Oh, it's a fellow countryman then! Or woman, you know," the black-haired boy clapped Gokudera's leg whose expression only darkened further. He was clearly not happy with the current situation and mumbled incomprehensible things that involved a certain 'baseball freak' in many sentences. But even his head snapped up in surprise when Yamamoto pointed to something behind them suddenly. "Hey, could that be her?"

Tsuna and Gokudera looked over their shoulders. The snow was moving on its own...? No, wait a moment, _**something** moved the snow_ —

"Somebody get him off meeeeeeee—!"

Like a whirlwind they whizzed right past them, gushing up hair and clothes and the map; snow raining down on them in a muddy arc. Tsuna just about managed to make out the quickly retreating blond braid jumping wildly into the horizon when Hibari himself raced by in pursuit barely a second later, a face of fierce determination and spiked tonfas clutched between his hands.

Then silence.

Gokudera cleared his throat. "You know, she looks fine to me. Let's just leave," he offered.

Tsuna felt something cool and hard press into the back of his head that he recognized as the end of a gun. Instantly he sat up straighter. "I wonder what would happen once Hibari catches up with her." Reborn faked sadness and wiped a mock-tear away. "Such a short live she lived. And she threw it away for a complete stranger. One who fainted."

"Why are you pointing the gun at me?!" Tsuna flailed his arms around wildly. "I didn't say we'd leave her!"

"Gokudera didn't mean it like that, either," Yamamoto cut in as well, "He'd be the saddest of us three. They're from the same country, after all." Tsuna couldn't believe it. He still thought of him as an _actual_ baby. And Gokudera was on the complete opposite spectrum of emotions when it came to Fiona, too!

Just then a high-pitched scream tore through the winter quiet of the town. They didn't even need to exchange looks, already jumping to their feet and running towards the source of the scream as quickly as possible.

The snow was whirled up like a maze on the ground. Fiona had kept on going against the prefect far longer than he would ever give himself and she barely knew the guy's scary abilities. It was as depressing as it gave him hope that somehow she'd turn out healthy and smiling again. And that Reborn would stop rubbing his incompetence into his face.

"It should be just around the corner!" Gokudera yelled over his shoulder, running first despite his dislike for her. When they skidded to a halt Tsuna half-expected a blood bath.

They only found a teary Lambo in the middle of the street.

"What? It's just the cow," Gokudera muttered and pressed a few fingers against his forehead.

Tsuna sighed in relief and crouched down next to the boy. "Lambo! What are you doing here?" _It's dangerous,_ he wanted to add, _because there's two maniacs out of control._ But he would have to be blind not to notice the footprints leading away from this place. They'd been through here.

He sniffed and wiped some snot from his nose. "Lambo-san was patrolling the street... but then... then two crazies attacked Lambo-san!" He'd actually met them and lived to tell the tale! That kid owned more luck than brain.

On wobbly legs, he pushed himself up. The cow-printed suit and red gloves were muddy and when he looked down, he started to tear up again. "They pushed Lambo-san over," he continued. Then he rummaged in his bushy afro. Tsuna fell back into the snow. _Not the Ten-Year-Bazooka...!_

Instead of the purple bazooka he pulled out a pink grenade. Tsuna felt his heart sink. "Lambo, what are you planning to do with that?" he drawled out. Please, let him have more brains this time around. Just some tiny bit of a thinking process!

He raised the dirty gloves. "They were a present from Mama. Because it's cold outside." _Oh, no._ He pointed at the footprints. "Lambo-san will avenge Mama." _Nonononono!_

Tsuna was too slow.

His arms closed around air and snow when Lambo dodged out of his reach. He jumped onto his head when he spotted the opportunity, wiggling a short victory dance.

"You little—!" Gokudera tried to grab him by his hair but instead got Tsuna's mane as Lambo casually slid down his back and took off after his enemies. Tsuna yelped in pain and Gokudera apologized furiously but it didn't change the fact: Lambo was gone.

Every alarm in Tsuna's head shrieked. Worst-case scenario! Totally the worst!

"What do we do?! Hibari-san will kill him on the spot if he gets too close!" Tsuna cried out.

"Why did you only stand around doing nothing, baseball freak?!"

Yamamoto rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, the other hand clutched around the bat Reborn gave him. "I can't hit a kid."

Before Gokudera could even think of retorting, Tsuna got in between the two. The headache worked fulltime now. All he wanted was for this day to end well. "It's enough! Let's just try to get Fiona-san and Lambo back before anything bad happens." He paled once more. His life was getting shorter and shorter with each chaotic day. "I don't want two deaths at my hands. I'm too young for jail."

The two squabblers nodded in unison. "Let's go!"

As the trio ran after the visible trail, Reborn didn't move from his vantage point on a snowy wall, watching their backs disappear behind the idyllic houses. He pulled his hat lower, the ghost of a smile crossing his lips.

"This is your family now."

* * *

She sneezed. "Okay, this is getting ridiculous."

"The herbivore doesn't like getting cornered?" he hummed amused. And amused meant trigger-happy in his case.

Fiona carefully slid her boot across the ice. Yes, this didn't look safe at all. There had to be a reason as to why nobody skated on the lake. Presumably that, oh!, _the ice was not thick enough._

"I'm an informant, not a fighter," she grumbled to nobody in particular. And also not the very best skater. Italy was not renown for their icy winters and she could practically hear the crystalline surface cackle at her every careful slide. "Let's call it a tie!" she yelled to the black-haired boy.

He slid closer towards her. "You should have thought twice before disturbing my peace." _That's all Reborn's fault!_ But instead of getting riled up, she simply sighed and drew a hand across her face in annoyance. Oh, was she still wearing sunglasses? She hadn't even noticed. At least he hadn't managed to break them so far. It was her favorite pair.

Push away the unnecessary. Focus on the important.

First impressions mark the foundation of new relationships, however shallow they may turn out to be. First impression of Sawada Tsunayoshi, potential Tenth Boss of Vongola?

Fiona felt like sighing in response, that's what. She would, if it didn't mean wasting an all-important breath she needed for survival.

First impression of this guy, however...

"What's your name, devil incarnate?"

He smiled, pleased with himself that his combat prowess got acknowledged by this lowly life that was her. Jerk. "Hibari Kyoya."

"Benivieni Fiona." She threw the braid over her shoulder. Keep it out of the way of this devil. He'd almost managed to cut it once. "I'm proposing a deal. I won't run anymore if you listen. Promise." Since she was stuck with him and neither Reborn nor Tsuna managed to bail her out of this, it was time to face the danger head-on. Also: never listen to Reborn without proper research first ever again. His appearance may be angelic but his insides were twisted. Beginner's mistake.

She was met with silence. Like a predator toying with cornered prey the boy took his time to take her in. Both tonfas at the ready, craving for blood to spill. You're a sweet duckling, boy, but damn it, this is dangerous. At last he cocked his head to the side in the slightest indication to continue. He was getting tired of playing cat and mouse, wasn't he?

The frozen lake cackled at her again. Fiona pointed at their legs before she spread them further apart and lowered her body in anticipation of an attack. "Whoever looses his footing."

His eyes gleamed dangerously but he mimicked her stand. "Dies," he finished.

Oh shush, you!

While she expected another daring dash of his, even he was handicapped on the slippery surface and the attack lost most of its momentum. She ducked out of the way of his first attack—there's an easy pattern; he likes to aim for the head—and pressed her palm into the freezing ice. With one strong push she circled away from him as quickly as he took after her. If she calculated things right she could get out unscathed as long as he kept to the proposed challenge. She was more flexible in her movement than he was with his tonfas and so long as she got him to fall first...

She should have known things would turn out this way. Tsuna was but a boy thrown into a mean world and she had been the one to send out Vongola Greetings (You wanna mess with us? Here's where we usually meet up, haha) to the buff-looking Elvis lookalikes. But really, did he have to fall unconscious out of all things? This was supposed to promote Tsuna's training: _"Now all we have to do is deal with the Elvis Leader, right, Tsuna?"_ He was to rescue the damsel in distress: her, the super nice, super normal, super pretty girl.

Only that when Sawada Tsunayoshi fainted the _he_ became _she._ As in: run for your life.

Her heart raced when she heard the dubious sounds of ice creaking but the moment she checked her surroundings, he closed in, aiming for the newly created blind side. Instinctively her hand reached for the black of his jacket and threw it between his attack. The material got shredded to pieces under his spiked tonfas.

He peeked at her through the holes. "That's the second time you've violated something of mine today."

_Uh-oh._

_"YAAAAAH!"_ A screeching scream interrupted what could have turned into the massacre of the century. Her hands flew to her ears and both their heads snapped to the source of the painful assault on their hearing.

Namely a cow.

Fiona cocked her head to the side quizzically. A cow on ice? Nah, had to be a calf. It was too small to be a grown cow. She scrunched up her eyes. A very bushy calf. With a stubby nose? She was just about to take off her shades when she heard the one sound she dreaded to hear. _The cow's added weight...!_

The ice cracked.

"Lambo! Get off the ice, it's dangerous—Fiona-san?!" She looked up again. Tsuna's familiar mane stood on the far side of the park's frozen lake. _Now_ he caught up. Way too late without a say, mister.

"No! Lambo-san found the crazies!" the cow/calf screeched. Wait, she remembered something blurry in the back of her mind. Something in a cowsuit this Hibari Kyoya so casually kicked out of the way...

"Hn. Herbivores flocking again," that very same boy said now. While she made out some more of the forms following Tsuna—a tall boy, the bomber that threatened her earlier—Hibari turned his gaze back to her and raised the tonfas to his chest. The ice cracked again, harsher this time and much closer.

Suddenly her little deal didn't sound so promising any longer. Their footing would disappear _very_ quickly if they continued. It was best she got out of here and abort the mission. Her little fighting was done and over with now that the Boss-in-training was here for some surely very twisted Reborn lessons.

For a moment she watched Tsuna's horrified expression as he robbed across the ice, gauging her own escape routes. The cow danced around him uncaring. Then Hibari Kyoya's face was so close all of a sudden, she could feel the tips of his hair brush her nose when her body angled out of the danger zone. _Fast...!_

Almost toppling over, she circled away with flailing arms until she managed a formidable distance to her opponent again. _Crack, crack, crack._ A throbbing burn diverted her attention from the fragile surface to her face. She raised her fingers to her cheek. Blood dotted them crimson. It was warm against her cold skin.

"Got him! Stay still, Lambo!"

She looked up into those bloodthirsty eyes.

"Way to go, Juudaime!"

He had no intentions of running.

"Lemme go, Dame-Tsuna!"

They had a winner to decide.

Excitement pumped through her veins. Her heart beat faster and she grinned; a toothy, awe-struck grin. "You're a lunatic." The blood trailed down her neck. Driblets dotted the ice red. A spike of his tonfa was darker than the others. What a pain in the ass, this guy. He really wanted to fight, despite the dangers.

She pulled the sunglasses off and secured them at the top of her cardigan. She didn't want them to break. They were her favorite pair after all. "Are you a hitman?"

Hibari Kyoya took up a fighting stance again and nodded in the direction of the shredded jacket. There was a red band attached to one sleeve. Too bad she couldn't decipher the writing on it. "I will bite you to death," he said with piercing eyes.

Fiona smiled. "You won't."

The situation went downhill fast. "No! Lambo!" Tsuna yelled suddenly. It was too late again.

The cowsuit-boy struggled out of Tsuna's hold. He kicked around and slipped on the icy surface, flat on his face. Something flew from his hands.

Hibari crossed the gap between them with uncanny speed.

The soaring object gleamed pink.

Steel glinted victoriously.

Tsuna's face of horror.

Piercing grey tinted with blue.

The cold.

The burning—

"Don't avert your eyes."

—and the world exploded.

* * *

For a moment his heart forgot to beat. The cry got stuck in his throat. His ears rung. He couldn't hear what his friends were saying. Distantly he made out Lambo's crying as they managed to fish him off a small chunk of ice. Tsuna could only watch as the smoke settled, unable to lift a finger to help.

And all he thought of was a warm smile over the rim of a coffee cup.

"Impossible," he heard himself mumble as he fell to his knees. How the ice crackled and creaked and exploded and the freezing water gushed up high. How they got flung back in a high arc. The painful landing that pressed all air out of his lungs and sent stars dancing in front of his eyes. But it was nothing against the emptiness he felt now. They were gone. Both of them. Just like that.

A slap brought him back to reality.

"Get a hold of yourself, Tsuna," Reborn's squeaky voice reprimanded him, standing on his lap. He pointed into the clearing smoke. "Look, somebody's coming."

The group sat rigid and tense and watched the shadow grow bigger the closer it got. Tsuna scrunched his eyes together but he couldn't make out any distinctive features in the lingering smoke. Agonizingly slow the body tore through the grey.

Hibari.

Alone.

Tsuna's heart sank right back where it had been. He looked up at the disheveled form of the prefect with pleading eyes. "Where's Fiona-san?" Grey eyes glinted once, a flash of something indecipherable, before they eventually shifted towards the left. They turned their heads.

"I think I lost my shades," she said as she clutched a bleeding arm.

With a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B'aaaww. She lives! *throws tissue paper away* What a nice conclusion to the introduction. The protagonist still lives. I'm so relieved. Let the Ending music play.


	3. Indebted

Fiona laughed. "Didn't I tell you to stop apologizing? It's not your fault."

The Italian and the spiky-haired boy were in a hospital room; she bed– and Tsuna guilt-ridden. He looked down, both in the literal and figurative sense. "If I hadn't fainted..." he mumbled and fidgeted his fingers nervously.

The sky was bleary outside and his shoes and pants speckled with muddy snow. It was clear he'd come to check in on her as soon as school was over, his bag still slung across his shoulder. She toyed with the thought of patting his head but chose not to in favor of appearing well-groomed and mature.

She raised her bandaged arm, a sharp contrast to the neat hairstyle. "It's just a flesh wound," she joked. With similarly bandaged fingers on her right hand she absentmindedly brushed the plaster over her cut cheek. It could have turned out much worse with the way events unfolded. Despite the difficulties she'd braided her hair on her own again this morning and circled it up to a petal-like bun.

Apparently they were on the same wavelength with that line of thoughts. "It could have been much worse," he said with a lingering and somewhat fearful look at the hurt limb.

"But it isn't," she stood her ground. _Pattern: overly compassionate_. Okay, he might be new to the business, but _she_ was pretty used to wounds by now. Came with the job description. "So please stop apologizing." At least his heart was in the right place.

"But—"

Reborn made an entrance out of nowhere, kicking the boy harshly in the head. "She just said to stop apologizing and you still do it. You really are Dame-Tsuna!" He hovered expertly onto the sheets.

Tsuna winced in pain and his hands flew to the mishandled spot. "Stop hitting me, Reborn! I'm in enough pain as it is!"

The baby's eyes flashed viciously. "Now you're trying to order _me_ around." Another kick, different spot. This time he backflipped to another graceful landing before turning to face her. "I apologize if my incompetent student is wasting your precious time."

She didn't even dare imagine what horrors Tsuna had to face on a daily basis if _that_ was his teacher. She managed a polite smile. "Not at all. I enjoy his company." _Now that I am grounded in hospital because of **your** vague orders, thank you._

The baby hitman smiled. "I knew you'd get along." He pointed at her, this time facing Tsuna. "She'll be staying in Japan for a while. Best get used to it." Why did he make it sound as if _she_ were the ultimate evil that had summoned this queer situation up all on her own? If she'd ever met a more scheming bastard it was definitely him.

"Uhh, yeah," Tsuna drawled out with an apologetic glance in her direction.

"Great. Now go and pack your stuff," Reborn chirped and clapped his hands demanding.

Tsuna blinked. "Pack my stuff? What for?"

"Since this training session was a failure due to you fainting and Fiona doing all the work, we're going camping." Leon turned into a personal organizer. "Tomorrow."

"Eeeeh? But I have school tomorrow!" Tsuna retorted loudly.

"You're ill."

"That's lying! HIEEE! I didn't say anything!" He backed up with raised hands when Reborn pushed Leon-turned-gun into his face. He escaped to the door in a few strides. "B-Bye, Fiona-san! Get well soon!"

The door fell shut behind him, introducing a long patch of silence to the remaining inhabitants of the room. Fiona turned her head towards the baby hitman. "So. Why the explosive entrance?" she said through a strained, twitching smile.

"I had to see how well you work under stress." He dropped the casual note he used around his student when addressing her but it didn't wipe the smug undertone from the sentence. "There's going to be a lot of work ahead of you."

She would have crossed her arms defiantly if the stiff bandaging didn't restrict most of her movement. Instead she resorted to raising a brow. "The Ninth should've told you who I am. I gather information. I don't exactly fight." The Elvises didn't count. Provocation is a form of information gathering.

Reborn righted his fedora and for a brief moment she couldn't see his eyes. "I know exactly _who_ you are," he whispered. She frowned. Was it just her imagination or did she hear some sort of implication in his words? Then his button eyes stared straight ahead into hers again, pushing the thoughts aside in an almost cheery manner. "You held your ground pretty well, though," he said a tad bit too innocently.

 _Everybody would when their life depends on it._ "What are you implying this time?" They'd been through that once. She'd not fall for vagueness again so blindly.

"Nothing," he replied instantly. _Yeah sure—_ "All I ask for is a piece of your unparalleled loyalty." He kept his gaze steady.

For once she bit back a retort and cast her eyes away.

* * *

Tsuna sighed in relief as he closed the door shut behind him. He was glad Fiona was holding up well. By the time the ambulance had delivered her to the hospital the sun was already setting and she'd lost so much blood, she'd simply passed out the moment her head hit the stretcher.

He chuckled to himself as he walked towards the waiting area. A good night's rest apparently did wonders to anyone. Among the crowd sitting in the bland chairs he spotted a familiar head he'd not expected to see. He approached the boy lost in his thoughts. "What are you doing here, Gokudera-kun?"

Gokudera jumped in start but a beaming smile quickly pushed the alarmed frown away. "Juudaime! I came to wait for you, of course."

Tsuna cocked his head to the side as the silver-haired boy rose to his feet. "I was just visiting Fiona-san."

The smile vanished in place of a frown once more. He turned his head to the side. "Yeah, I know. That's why I made sure to wait."

Tsuna sighed. At least he tried to swallow most of his biting comments regarding the blonde after finding out Reborn himself had called her over. The animosity still lingered, though. "Why do you dislike her so much? Did something happen between the two of you?"

He blinked twice. "I never met her before." _What?!_ Then he shrug his shoulders. "But everybody knows the top informants of Vongola: Johnny Numbers, Ranking Fuuta, Knucklebone Eduardo. And of course, Fiona the Fisher." Tsuna's brow twitched as he rattled down the names so casually. _Knucklebone kind of stands out way more than anybody else..._ In his imagination he was a bald bundle of muscle, flexing his fingers for another bone crushing hit—

Best not go further that way.

Gokudera stuffed his hands away into the pockets of his pants. "I also dislike older people." The bomber seemed to have a problem with 80% of the world population then. "I think she's about the same age as my sister but I couldn't be bothered to ask." _  
_

That still didn't answer his question. "So, what makes her such a bad person?" From what he'd seen of her, even those little shady glints of her sunglasses or the obvious ties to the Mafia, she'd seemed, out of all he could label her, _honest._ He couldn't sense any danger radiating off her the same way he regarded Dino as a friend despite his position as head of the Chiavarone family. Dino was a good-natured person first and foremost.

"It's information that makes the world go 'round, not just money," Gokudera answered as they crossed the gap towards the sliding doors, leaving the hospital and entering the cool outside. "And informants gather them. Even if you don't like it, you have to place your trust into their hands every once in a while. If a hitman is not well informed beforehand, his mission might fail. In the worst case he ends up dying. That sorta thing." Tsuna shuddered. Not a pleasant thought.

White smoke rose up into the sky from their breathing. "Some people say Fiona's become vain, sells information to the black market and the Underworld, generally shady business and all that crap." Tsuna frowned. He couldn't imagine her, dodging Hibari all over the city for his sake, actually doing that. It didn't fit. That Eduardo, though... he had to stop thinking about him. Seriously. "She reached a new peak of distrust but the Ninth kept her around all the same."

Gokudera lit a cigarette and grey smoke mingled with the white. "And that's when the Talvonziani incident happened."

"Talvonziani incident?" Tsuna asked in confusion.

"A large-scale mafia collaboration mission which failed in every possible regard. Over eighty good men died that night, two years ago. They didn't stand a chance." His features darkened. "The informant dealing out false information was Fiona the Fisher."

* * *

Hibari Kyoya was fuming.

It wasn't the hospital and its sick and deathly atmosphere that tackled him. The stench of blood was nothing new to him and to the hospital he was a regular visitor, more often out of convenience than actual need. It was the memory playing endlessly in the back of his head that haunted him.

_Don't avert your eyes._

He clenched his teeth together. If there was one thing he hated it was being indebted.

The white-walled maze of corridors was familiar to him and it didn't take him long to find the Director's office. He'd long exchanged his shredded jacket for a new one that placed back the comfortable weight around his shoulders. It swayed behind his every step, showing off the red band that induced respect but had so unfazed her. She was a foreigner, not custom to the workings of Namimori. And it gnawed at him that she still hadn't been taught the proper ways since she'd managed to avoid punishment.

_Don't avert your eyes._

That knowing **_look_**.

He didn't knock before he entered the office and the head of the hospital spun around, lab coat over his clothes. "Hibari-san!" he exclaimed surprised. "You're early."

He chose not to comment on that. Instead he walked up to the massive oak table in the room and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you have what I asked for?"

"I was just searching for the file," the elder man answered hastily and turned back towards the half-opened filing cabinet he stood at. He sensed his mood. Good. "We're lucky the patient came prepared. Always good for medication purposes." After a minute of rummaging through the masses he eventually pulled out a thin folder and handed it to the prefect.

Hibari regarded the folder with a lazy glance before he grasped it from his fingers. "Leave."

The director blinked, debating whether to act against the power the younger so blatantly misused. A glare silenced his every doubt and he chose to leave his own office in favor of getting hospitalized in the very same place. The door clicked close behind him, leaving Hibari with silence as his sole company.

For a moment he didn't move a single muscle. _Don't avert your eyes._

He _never_ tore his gaze from his opponent. That's why he saw it. That when his tonfas triumphantly tore through her flesh, sunk deep into the tissue until the blood oozed out, it was not panic that flickered through the vivid green eyes finally unveiled.

Those same foreign eyes looked back up at him from a tiny picture in the folder between his hands. Foreign hair, foreign face, foreign name.

 _Don't avert your eyes,_ her voice echoed as he was fixated on that calm, knowing look. It was a challenge. How the spikes perfectly aligned with the length of her arm, taking the full hit instead of avoiding him as she'd done before. Only when she took the hit could her fingers fall over his face and darken his vision as fiery smoke and a rain of ice engulfed them; the digits trembling to take the unavoidable splinters aiming for _him_ , his eyes, before they both dashed off in different directions.

They'd both lost their footing. It was a tie at the very best, born from the change of rules, the challenge offered. He would have given her no mercy had she lost. The proper punishment still itched in his fingers. She could have easily avoided the ice. Instead, she could have drowned the way she bothered to try and save his—

His eyes slanted to slits as he stared at the room number she was placed in.

He _hated_ being indebted.

* * *

"Foooood," she drawled as she stumbled through the corridors aimlessly. She'd been told where to turn twice already but it was difficult when you couldn't manage to read the signs. The gnawing hunger didn't help with the thinking process either. If there was one good thing the admittance to the hospital got her, though, it was the fact that she'd completely slept off any leftover jet-lag for sure.

Still. That meager tray of nothingness they called lunch did nothing to the gaping hole in her stomach. She let the coins in her purse dance with a swing of her hand.

She spotted the last nurse she'd asked for directions coming her way once more. This time she didn't even have to open her mouth, already was the woman pointing down another hallway to go before getting back on track to follow the dreadful moaning coming from a room nearby. Fiona didn't even dare peek through the door. Some things were best left unseen no matter how curious a cat you were.

Blindly walking past a large sign with loads of hieroglyphs and a number of arrows, she soon found her goal. The sounds coming from the end of the hall grew louder, mixed with the clattering of cutlery and a fabulously thick waft of warmth and freshly baked bread.

Five minutes later she was busy stuffing herself with said bread.

Her tray towered with random food that had caught her attention, a mix of soup, fish, rice, vegetables and cake. The now gaping hole in her wallet was totally worth it. Some of the nearby seated visitors and patients eyed her messy style of eating but they probably just shrug it off as something foreigners did. She paused to check on her bun. As long as the hairstyle's sorted, so was she. Appearances carried you a long way no matter the manners.

Her eyes fell on the bandaged fingers on her right. She tentatively flexed them, feeling the slightest dim sting of pain around her knuckles as she did so. The ice had given out on them. It was probably her luck, even if she had to take a direct hit in turn. Otherwise he might be chasing her around to this day. _Promise,_ she'd said yet planned to run and abort when it fit her. But he'd trusted her words. Stayed true to them. To the challenge.

Her gaze softened. To the plan.

She shook the thought crawling up on her off with a shake of her head. Focus. Instead a tiny chuckle escaped her lips as she reached for fork and knife again. Her right hand would heal while his eyes would have nevermore if she'd left as her instincts screamed at her to do. She _chose_ to reach out, to shield him. Thinking about it, she actually felt elated. Maybe a little thankful. A teensy bit indebted. The Underworld had ways of changing you but this act showed she was still her good ol' Mafia self. He'd never know why but maybe that was for the best.

The smile lingered on her lips all the while she stayed in the cafeteria.

By the time she decided that she was full, the previous nurse had also finished her job. She quickly threw the bloody rubber gloves into a wastebin the moment she spotted Fiona leaving the cafeteria with a hum and led the Italian back to her room with learned expertise. The humming got stuck in her throat. Sometimes efficiency was scary.

She thanked the nurse politely but the woman brushed it off with a wave, already hovering over to the next issue at hand. She cocked her head to the side. That's Batman right there; never thanked, always the helper in need. Snickering to herself she turned around to turn the knob on the door...

...only to wish she'd never looked.

The blotch of darkness towering over her wore a _very_ familiar black leather jacket. He also owned an overly-gelled hairstyle she recognized. _And_ a perfectly swollen purple plum where his eye socket should be.

This time he also had more friends with him.

"What a coincidence," she said with a twitching eye and clutched the door knob tighter. Her right hand muttered in protest. She wanted the superhero-nurse back.

If it was possible his pulsating black aura was further thickening with subdued anger. He was literally a big warning sign that screamed: _DANGER!_

Fiona raised her hands awkwardly. "Look, this is all a big misunderstanding." Seriously, why was there no staff anywhere in sight when you needed it? Had he always been this tall? She should've really done her research. She couldn't even count the number of allied hairstyles loitering _behind_ him.

He bent down to her face. The door was right at her back and the cool wood sent shivers down her body. The thin white gown didn't help making her feel safe at all. "Misunderstanding, huh?" he echoed. Maybe she could angle her arm, open the door, run like hell, slam it back in his face. Sounded like a plan, alright. "Seems like you misunderstood me when I said I wasn't your freaking callcenter."

She blinked. Wait a moment. Don't turn all Reborn on me! "Hey, _I'm_ the one who beat _you_ up. Don't make it sound like I should regret it." She cocked her head to the side with a provoking smile. You don't break The Fisher. She's got a speargun. "You did answer my question afterward, too. Quite menially so."

If the tension was thick before you could cut through it like a knife through butter now.

She took a step back when he cracked his knuckles. Thinking straight and in foresight: Yeah, it was definitely time for a premature discharge from the hospital. Taking another, she realized something very important when the plum-guy didn't follow after. Where did the door disappear to...?

"Hey," greeted a smooth voice. She mechanically turned her head around.

Slanted, steel-grey eyes.

* * *

If there was any sound disrupting the silence in the room it would have to be the cogs in her head working. The windows were closed, the door shut tight and the boy looking out over the city unmoving.

Fiona watched him closely. Observing came to her like breathing. Instincts that picked up on the habits of an opponent mid-battle, mind that watched eyes shift and muscles twitch as somebody talked, looking for the patterns unable to hide within the unmistakable lines of the body. It was that perception that had granted her rank and status within the Vongola.

He didn't drip with bloodthirsty intent, a fact she thanked all heavens for. Yet even now he stood with the composure of a predator, merely sated enough to leave his prey be for the moment. She could sit quiet and unmoving. She'd been in a great many situations where it was an absolute necessity to do so if you valued your life. That didn't mean she had to like the implications their current distribution of role entailed because she really liked using her speargun. Even the blind could conclude a couple of things from the past minute alone:

a) Elvis Enterprise owned _many_ employees.

b) Each and every one of them followed their boss' orders so loyally, the slightest look from him had been enough to have them back off the door. And leave poor Fiona with the boss alone in the room.

What new patterns did she learn? Their loyalty stemmed from respect. But also a hint of fear. Because only the strongest could be the leader.

Marvelous.

Which brought her thoughts back to close the circle again: since he'd calmed down to the level he was at now, it was a good time as any to test the new waters Reborn had guided her to. After all she'd stay in Japan for a while.

She disrupted the silence by letting herself fall onto the bed that it creaked and the sheets shifted wildly. "So, whaddya want?" she asked and rested her elbow on her crossed knees. The bandaged right propped her head up.

The only object stirring was the jacket draped over his shoulders as he turned around. His face was void of any palpable emotion. What an interesting boy. He took his time to take in her appearance, the uncaring calmness she radiated. His eyes strayed particularly long over the hurt arms and hands. She gave it a try, reading his gaze. Guilt perhaps? No, not one bit. Jerk.

"You're not from Namimori." His voice startled her, that sudden he spoke up.

Her lips curved upward. They were alone in the room. No odd numbers. No army behind his back. "Wonder what gave it away," she mused, feeling cheeky.

A metallic glint was the only warning she saw before a tonfa slid right under her jaw. The smirk still stayed in place. Yes, he was more composed than others his age but even he had something that irked him. Rebels, for one, are a no-go. Which included cheekiness and a generally defiant attitude. Oh how she loved toying with him already.

Fiona squinted down. "I think we were introduced already." She pointed at the plaster on her cheek. He pressed a little further, the metal cool and hard against her skin. There it was, that unbridled fighting spirit flaring to life in the cool gaze. How many died in the hospital from unnatural causes again? Like getting murdered. Because he sure looked like a potential cause.

"I really want to bite you to death," he said with a dangerous smirk. The grey of his eyes danced vividly now. Pale blue streaks in between, cold and icy drilling into her.

There are times where she's The Fisher. Others, she's just Fiona. Both born with an uncanny ability to crawl under people's skins. The difference being the level of professionalism applied. Reborn wasn't quite right in his statement. She didn't work well under stress—she worked _best_.

Testing those waters, boy.

"Then why don't you?"

Just like that she found herself crashing into the sterile tiles to avoid the blow. The black of his shoe sailed down on her the moment she rolled to the side. Without a second thought she rushed to the door, praying that the surprise effect was on her side.

The previous plan springing up in the back of her mind, she opened the door—surprised gasps, doe-eyed Elvises, white gown flowing—and rammed it straight into his face.

The wood splintered into thousand pieces under the fast, merciless strikes of spiked tonfas. Fiona gulped.

_Thin ice. **Really** thin ice, this Hibari Kyoya._

* * *

**Meanwhile**

* * *

"Hm," made the baby hitman as he looked out of the single window in Tsuna's room.

The boy noticed and stopped rummaging through the chaos in his room he'd self-created in an attempt of packing. "What is it, Reborn?"

He turned around, hand on his chin and an ever-present smile on his face. "I saw Hibari enter the hospital. Wonder if I should've told her that." A shady glint sparked off his button eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my. It's not Hibari who's the devil incarnate, Fiona. Clearly not.
> 
> As if the tagged character section isn't foretelling enough: Yes, I'm aiming for a Hibari romance. No, the 'spark' won't happen anytime soon. Like, way far ahead in the distant future of this story. Top priority is creating a solid character, fitting to the world and canon story of KHR without making her the center of attention. You'll see her—and Hibari for that matter—around a great deal (simply retelling KHR is boring), but don't think I'll just forget about the others. It's just too much fun to pass up the chance to hop into Tsuna's head every once in a while.


	4. The Transfer Student

With a heavy sigh and hunched shoulders Tsuna slouched his way through Namimori's streets. Yet another week of complete madness had passed and he dreaded going to school. He could not see the new week go by in peace and harmony any longer. There's just too much Reborn involved in every aspect of his life nowadays for that to be a viable possibility.

"Let's go camping, he says," he muttered to himself, "and then it's Death Mountain..." If there were any leftover freezing, bleary, dark clouds out in the warming spring sky—they were nothing compared to the blackness surrounding and threatening to flatten him right now.

"Yo, Tsuna!"

"HIIIEEE!" he jumped and nearly bumped his head into the nearest wall before his mind registered that it wasn't another death trap set for him. "Yamamoto!" he called out in relief.

The tall boy laughed light-heartedly. "You seem out of it today. Not enough sleep?" Tsuna glanced to the side with a weary expression. _You could say that...  
_

There's only so much violence you can take in a week, after all.

First the whole chaos with Fiona-san. While Reborn said she'd stay a while he'd not seen her again since the day before their 'camping trip' _._ And he'd spent a _great_ amount of time in the hospital after Death Mountain took its toll on his body. To his utter dismay—and he wasn't ashamed to admit he'd actually prayed for the strange foreigner woman to still be around somewhere in the hospital—he'd even ended up spending a portion of his stay with none other than _Hibari Kyoya._

_"My cold took a turn for the worse."_

Which Tsuna literally read as: "I'm still mad at the whole thing with the lake but you're the only one to take it out on. Let's play a game."

So yes, it still haunted his dreams and sleep didn't come by easy.

Yamamoto patted him on the back in a cheery fashion, sensing his rapidly dropping mood. "Hey, it's the start of a new week. Something good is bound to happen after the bad, right?"

Tsuna looked up at him then, dark clouds lifting slightly. _Yamamoto..._ he always managed to be so optimistic no matter what!

Just as they rounded the corner by the river, Gokudera jogged over to the walking pair, waving. "Good morning, Juudaime! And the baseball freak's here, too, I guess..." he grumbled. Then he beamed again. "It's like we haven't seen each other in ages! I hope you're well again!"

That comment alone sent Tsuna's lips twitching in a less-than-bemused smile. The few hours he'd spent with _him_ in the same room were just as horrific as the short time spent with Hibari.

And then there's that room of inexplicable origin they'd placed him in...

Depressive, gloomy cloud back in action in all its threatening black glory. He _never_ wanted to be reminded of the remaining days in that room _ever_ again.

Walking the rest of their way to school, both Yamamoto and Gokudera tried to cheer him up in turns. Which often resulted in random, almost-getting-out-of-hand street battles, mainly due to Gokudera's right-hand man antics. Tsuna sighed again as the school came in sight, placing three fingers to the side of his head. Just another headache in the morning already. He was actually getting used to them, much to his own surprise.

The usual buzz of voices accompanied them the closer they got to school. But it was on the school courtyard the next surprise waited in store for him.

Tsuna froze on the spot.

There she was, a little too tall, a little too well-developed to fit the Namimori Middle School Uniform in proper disguise; large pair of sunglasses resting on her nose like a trademark, long caramel hair pulled up in a loose bun, looking as if she'd just escaped a photo shoot in Miami.

Of course she spotted them and walked over, bemused smiled plastered onto her face. Tsuna had a bad hunch. A really horrible one actually. _"She'll be staying in Japan for a while. Best get used to it."_ Not like this. Not even more...!

"F-F-Fiona-san?! What are you doing here?" he stammered. Please, please, please don't let Reborn win one over him again—

The shades glinted deviously as she stemmed her hands to both sides of her hips. "I'm the new transfer student, of course."

 

* * *

 

The group in the middle of the courtyard was nothing unusual from the norm. There was just this one female addition to the trio of first-years. The one out-of-place foreigner casually strapping her sunglasses to the hem of her uniform as if she'd always done it that way in the mornings, right before classes, while they received ever so curious glances all the while. Tsuna didn't mind. At least that's what he tried to convince his brain. He really didn't mind as long as she kept _normal_ and _polite_ and _somewhat undercover_ —

He hung his head low as the bubble popped. He forgot. They were talking about the _Mafia._ About Reborn. _Of course_ the situation escalated while he was busy trying catch and prevent his soul from escaping his body from shock and utter pain.

"I refuse," Gokudera declared unnerved and crossed his arms over his chest. There we go again.

Fiona shot him a lazy, green-eyed glance. Tsuna dreaded the next words already. Why in the morning? Hadn't he suffered enough already? Where's the good coming after the bad? "Good thing you're not important enough to decide." A grin stretched her lips into the most devious curve. "Smokey~" she added with a provocative purr.

He dreaded with good reason.

It was all thanks to Yamamoto's quick reflexes the school's courtyard didn't get turned to cheese. The fuming silver-head flailed like a madman in the taller boy's iron grip on him, dynamite sticks gripped so tightly between his fingers that his knuckles turned white. The thin line of patience he'd shown in the hospital before was broken instantly upon seeing each other in person and he couldn't help but wonder how much further their relationship could fall. They simply refused to co-exist together.

"Calm down. The more the merrier, right?" Yamamoto offered with a brilliant smile.

"You baseball maniac still think it's a game—!" Gokudera caught himself only long enough to continue glaring at Fiona, not even bothering trying to talk some common sense into the black-haired boy. "I'm not letting you anywhere near him, woman. I told you already: get away from him." By now the students' curious glances turned to very curious chatter. Tsuna drew his hands across his face. _Why me? Why **my** reputation? Oh god, my soul! It's escaping again!  
_

Fiona placed a hand around her chin in mock-thought. "But my boss is your boss' boss. I'm part of this by rule of superiority." Tsuna stopped in his hunt for his soul. She did this on purpose. It was only a gut feeling but he knew she wanted to rile Gokudera up. Badly.

"Fiona-san, please," he pleaded and he thought to see simpathy in her expression. She had to stop whatever and wherever she intended to go with this. But she only placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Tsuna." She pointed a finger at Gokudera. "I stand above him in rank. As in: completely outside of every rank. I could even _order_ him around, you know?" Her voice turned dangerously sweet. "What a great idea actually!" No, not great at all! Fiona stared the bomber down in the best manner she could muster up. "Boy! My presence is to be acknowledged. I will walk the ground as I please and no _mere man_ will cage me." Her eyes glinted mischievously. "Especially not a kid like you _._ "

She hit home.

When and how he lit the cigarette while confined, Tsuna would perhaps never know. "I only take orders directly from Juudaime! Fuck you—I don't care if Reborn called you over or not. What did you ever do to make me trust you, huh?" Oh god. This was not good. This was actually really, really dangerous. All the pent-up animosity, all the riling up—they were going to fight it out right here and then, once and for all, weren't they?!

No, he had to stop this. For his own life's sake. "Gokudera-kun, you, too...!"

Yamamoto nudged him with his shoulder. "I heard Italians are very spirited people. It's just their way of saying hello, don't worry." Tsuna's face derailed. How can you be so gullible even in this sort of tense situation?!

Fiona smiled too innocently, too close to victory. She pointed behind them. "I wonder about your right-hand man qualities when somebody can freely point a gun at your boss."

The boys spun around. Tsuna shrieked as his nose hit a too familiar green pistol's muzzle and he stumbled backwards into the dirty ground. In front of none other than... "Reborn?!"

"Ciaossu," the baby greeted. Then he casually used the grounded Tsuna as leverage to hop onto Fiona's shoulder. "As Tsuna's homeroom teacer I only choose what's best for him. Of course." The emphasis did nothing to calm his mind. Rather did it soar through the roof because the muzzle _still pointed at him while he said that! That's not the **best** situation to be in! Of course!  
_

Gokudera broke free from his confinement but his scowl never left his face. "Give me one good reason why I should trust someone like her, Reborn-san. You said you called her over. Why?"

The baby hitman smiled. "It's a question of loyalty."

He scoffed. "Yeah, loyalty. She's practically exiled and the most cunning bi—"

"Four attempted kidnappings," Fiona interrupted him harshly. Tsuna's head inadvertedly turned away from the pistol threatening his life at the tone of her voice. He couldn't help but stare at the determined face she showed; voice firm and serious unlike before and face at level with his. "One attempted murder but you needn't any help by then." Her eyes gleamed calculating and sharp, as if she'd only waited for his insult. _Is this really Fiona-san...?_

The bomber's mouth snapped shut and something akin to recognition flashed through his turquoise eyes. She simply continued, slowly crossing the distance between them with each new sentence. "Shamal took a liking to you, you know? This passionate behavior of yours." A finger flexed forward and lingered right over Gokudera's heart. Green eyes looked past it, lost in thoughts. "But to protect another, you have to control that passion. You still get carried away too easily. It helps when dealing with murderers on your heels but not with supporting a _famiglia_." She withdrew her finger and the hard cockiness returned to her voice.

"That information was free of charge. Take it as my offering of trust—I was paid to send this information to Davy Jones' Locker. It's not something I deal with freely."

They were almost the same height, Gokudera taller by barely more than an inch. Toe to toe, nose to nose, the Italians exchanged heated stares and Tsuna could only wonder how things would turn out this time. The tension had risen and thickened so quickly, he could reach out and grab it. _False informant. Telvonziani incident. Davy Jones' Locker?!_ What exactly just happened?

The silence went on for another awkward minute. The courtyard had practically emptied by now. It was so surreal, all this happening right before something as ordinary as school.

Eventually Gokudera stepped back and turned his head to the side defiantly. "How generous," he ground out through gritted teeth, finally breaking the ice.

"Always." Her smile was similarly stale as the one time in the café, bitter and void of warmth but still Tsuna sighed in relief when he saw her shoulders relax ever so slightly. The storm passed by.

Right?

Reborn played with Leon across his arm, seemingly unperturbed by the events unfolding. "Everybody done exchanging greetings now? I know it's been a while." Tsuna felt like banging his head against something. _This is **not** an Italian greeting! Don't go giving Yamamoto ideas again!_

At least the tension deflated to some degree. Gokudera clearly looked like he wanted to voice his opinion in a very fierce manner. Fiona stood her ground proudly. Reborn sighed as if he were the mother hen dealing with stubborn children, which was a ridiculous thought itself, him being a baby and all.

He pointed the gun back in Tsuna's face. "Watch out! Tsuna is about to faint again."

"HIEEE!" _That's going to kill me, not make me faint! And stop rubbing salt into my wound!_ "No, I'm fi—"

The silver-head spun around in renewed worry and forgotten brooding. "Juudaime! I'll make sure to catch you this time!"

Yamamoto placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to go to the infirmary, Tsuna?"

Fiona watched the school's entrance with the sharp eyes of a hawk searching for prey. "I'm up for distraction again. Nobody will find you."

Tsuna blinked perplexed as dislikes and animosity instantly dissipated for collected concern and each assumed a role in perfect sync. How? How was it possible for them to gather around him so easily; the boys close to his face and the female guarding their backs as if they were her most trusted friends?

Reborn smirked as he hopped off Fiona's shoulder almost unnoticed, only followed by his student's eyes who suddenly realized once more that nothing the baby ever did was unplanned, nothing without a result of some sorts. Even if it's just a shaky, neutral ground upheld by one impossible string alone.

_To protect another. Supporting a famiglia.  
_

Him.

That weird teacher, he thought with a smile as the bell rung for classes. All of their heads snapped around; the disguised middle schooler, the rebellious bomber, the happy baseball player and the small boy they all somehow held in deep regard. For a moment they stopped thinking about the Mafia and its dangers and feuds. Under laughter, hurry and curses they dashed into the building, wishing not to be caught late like any other student.

The briefest moment of peace. Upheld by one string alone.

 

* * *

 

She was really hopeless.

"Food..." she muttered under her breath as she walked the empty corridors. There she was, already missing out on classes because sleep deprivation, a half-empty fridge and a body refusing to stop punishing her with embarassing and painful grumbling clearly forced her to take on counter-measures.

At least that's what she told herself. Because saying you're overly eager to avoid Japanese class didn't sound cool at all.

Fiona sighed at herself. There was enough information taking up space inside her brain already. She needn't more. Her stomach grumbled beneath her laced fingers, whether in approval or accusation of her thoughts, she wasn't certain. She really needed to make an end to her unhealthy style of living. Although barely just an adult, she was still supposed to play the role model to the younger ones. For all her trying maturity didn't cooperate with her as easily as she'd imagined. She reached for her bun. At least the appearances fit, that much she made sure of.

It was like saying for Gokudera to stop fussing over Tsuna. Mentally she checked off the silver-head as 'more waters tested', with similarly thin ice to the Elvis Leader detected. At least he could be restrained, which could not be said from the other devil. Whether that was admirable or not was left open for debate. Gokudera also best never tell Shamal she'd bent her own security markings in order to make him accept her. Not that the man would mind now when the boy could take care of himself, but it was bad for business.

Her lone footsteps echoed off the walls as she inspected the digits on her right hand curiously. She ended up with a scar from their meet-up. It was really tiny, just long enough to cross the distance between the knuckles of her middle and ring finger. Yet it was of a fresh white that stood out on the remainder of her tan. And she'd never even gotten a thanks for her brave actions. Prideful jerk. That's an attitude clearly not debatable. It's simply rude.

She stopped mid-step. Her nose twitched.

Was that pizza she smelled?

An almost inaudible burr directed her head to the left and—lo and behold—the firehose box's door slid neatly to the side revealing a graceously furnitured miniature living room. Along with Reborn munching on a piece of pizza.

"Ciaossu," he greeted through bites. Her stomach roared at the deafening smells and the delicious sight of the melting cheese and glistening salami slices... He noticed. "I ordered pizza. Want some?" Before she even knew what was happening she'd already nodded.

The baby gobbled the remaining slice in one bite. "Order one yourself."

Fiona's fingers twitched to encompass his slim throat. But she calmed herself with a shaky breath. Vongola Style. It's just the usual. No need to get upset over. Maturity. Focus on being a mature role model! "You want to tell me something?" _Or are you just here to mock me?_

Reborn licked his fingers clean. "You should be in class. That's not a good first impression."

She reflexively tucked a loose strand behind her ear. "My first impressions were spot-on." The class had cheered when she waltzed in and introduced herself as an transfer student. Throw a foreigner at the Japanese and they're all over you. "I simply used the excuse of jet lag to slip out."

"You skipped Japanese class."

 _That scheming little...! How did he know?!_ "You're well informed," she managed with a strained smile.

He gave her a smug smirk. Seriously, she'd never be able to look normally at any baby ever again. "It's not just informants that need to be up-to-date with their surroundings." Her smile dropped as she heard the underlying meaning. As if the incident—which was to be expected, really—in the morning wasn't enough already. She could and _had_ put up with a lot but a part of the fuse already sizzled with smoke, thanks to Gokudera's actions.

"I still have it down pat," she answered after a long pause.

"I'd not expect anything else. I _am_ only choosing the best for Tsuna." He drew up an arm on the lean of his miniature chair. "You handled Gokudera well. Your reflexes are top-notch, too."

For a moment she frowned, not quite gathering where he'd come from. Then she noticed that innocent, _innocent!_ smile.

Screw calm and composure. "I'm not a fighter, Reborn..." she growled. Loyalty. Think of your loyalty, even if you want to strangle him for the ass cold chase from the hospital to the outskirts of town, the wind tearing at the thin hospital gown and toes turning blue. Blue! At least that devil hadn't gotten around to actually drowning her in the recently unfrozen lake!

"I know," came the instant reply. "But you'll need wit both mentally and physically if you're working under me." He then shoved a paper into her face.

To say she was wary was an understatement. To say she was still on the verge of throttling him was another understatement. To say she wasn't instantly hooked was the biggest one. Fiona gulped as she tore the paper away and scanned its contents.

She loved to _know_. That's why she decided to put down the rising fire in her chest just a little bit. Diamonds are a girl's best friend and her diamonds were secret knowledge. Although she did like the shiny objects as well. But she had to restrain herself. She was not going anywhere without proper background research. He could shove random papers in her face all day then. "What's this?"

"Take it to the principal." She was just about to open her mouth in question but he waltzed right over her attempts. "I took the liberty to fill out the form for you since your Japanese sucks." Innocent, victorious, freaking, baby smile...! _Put. The. Fire. Down!_ This was a battle hard-fought. Calm and collected. Mature. Put the fire down. Focus.

She waggled the paper around. "But what does it—" The doors slid close on her rudely. "...say?" Really now. Seriously? No appreciation for her after all she'd been through?

"Stupid Arcobaleno," Fiona muttered as she stood up, inspecting the paper in vain. She should seriously research the thing before giving it to anybody at all, especially with him being as vague as on the phone prior to her arrival. She might end up in hospital again. Right. Keep it calm and collected. Calm and—

The doors slid open again. Reborn's head popped out. "Oh, I forgot to tell you: you have to give it to him _right_ after school. I want it done and over with today so everything's ready starting tomorrow." He made a scissor cutting motion with his fingers and she paled. "Or else." The doors crashed back shut.

Fiona clutched her bun with trembling fingers. He wouldn't _dare_. Red flared up before her vision, trembling traveling down the length of her body. Forget about maturity.

_Fire in the hole._

 

* * *

  **After school**

* * *

 

The teachers startled from their seats when the female student slammed the paper on the principal's desk without so much as knocking on his door, nor bothering to close it after her. The elder man looked up reproving. She should not be charging in here like this! His determination quickly faded, though, when he was met with barely bridled _fury_ radiating off the newest Italian student.

He set his eyes on the paper instead, picking it up carefully as he read it over. His mouth parted in surprise. "Are you sure about this? This is not a position we can just entrust—"

Green eyes leaned forward and drilled into his very being like no middle schooler should be capable of. "Trust is my speciality."

The principal gulped as he squirmed in his seat. "O-Of course!"

And the deal was sealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who'd expect that? She's transferring over—how dare she! She's a (mature) adult! And what the hell did Reborn force her to do this time around...?
> 
> Starting now the plot's fully rolling. Do tell me your opinions (the good and the bad!) about what you think so far. I enjoy reading anything you guys have to say! :)


	5. Ceasefire

Fiona groaned as she picked herself up. Her shoulders ached from the awkward position she'd fallen asleep in. Dust danced in the tiny rays of light peeking between the slits of her shutters.

Stretching some of the stiffness out of her system, she gingerly placed her feet down on firm ground and got up on her toes. Papers lay strewn across every inch of her bedroom; the sheets, the end table, the ground and one even stuck between the shutter. For a moment she stood unmoving, casting a glance here and there over the chaos before she zigzagged her way out of it. Priorities had to be set. It was morning already.

And morning meant _school._

To have a routine again was almost unfamiliar. Her legs carried her to the bathroom and her hands reached out to the sink to wash her face. When was the last time she owned a routine? Maybe a little over two years ago. The water dripped off her face and the sound of it running was the only noise interrupting the silence of her apartment. Two years ago...

_She whistles as they enter through the double doors into a world of grandeur._

__He's not nearly as impressed._ Watchful eyes wander about the surroundings, brushing the bustle of people only briefly._ _"I spot twelve immediate flaws that any—what? We're here for business." He stops to glance down at her.  
_

___Fiona nudges his ribs with her elbow, grinning._ "You're just pissed because we woke you up. Get used to the new routine."_ _

_The brown of his eyes twitches in nuisance. "I refuse."_

Her reflection looked back at her, searching for answers she was uncertain to ever find; pushing the knocking memories away into the far back of her mind where they belonged to. Green eyes followed the path of the transluscent drops racing past her lips, the side of her brow, few caught in the strands of her—

She instantly reached for the brush, dispersing her thoughts. This won't do.

Just as she was busy catching the braided ends of her hair with a hair tie—neat head before neat home, always—, she heard a knock on the door and cursed all heavens. Fully expecting a smug-faced Reborn, she stomped over with a barking retort waiting at the tip of her tongue. How dare he threaten to cut off her lovely hair!

When she didn't have to look all the way down to meet a tiny baby, you could say she was more than surprised. With blinking eyes she tilted her head only _a little_ lower for the early guest at the door.

The elderly woman looked back up at her with aged, dark eyes. She was a few inches smaller than she, typical for Japanese women, and wore a dark purple wrap over her clothing. A tiny old hand pointed at the bell next to her door. "Your bell doesn't seem to work, so I had to knock."

Fiona blinked another few times before straightening her back. "Yes. I—there's some things not working yet. I just moved in here." The answer came spluttering out of her before her brain even caught up to form proper sentences. Civilian. It's just a civilian. Nothing to do with the Mafia. Talking with any sane person was a rare deed over the past years as well. She still had to connect one of the Vongola alarm systems to the mains before she'd do the same to the bell _. Wait, civilians needn't know that._ Focus.

"I know," the woman answered friendly. For a moment Fiona wondered whether the little Japanese could read her mind. Then it clicked even in her befuddled state that she meant something else entirely. She'd have to do some heavy catching up to uphold her claim to be one of the best in front of Reborn. Not that he'd ever hear her say that aloud.

A warm smile graced her features, further creasing her already wrinkled face but Fiona came to like it quickly. The woman looked to have laughed a lot in her life. She bowed her head as she continued. "I came over to introduce myself. I'm your neighbor, Inamura Kumiko." Creased eyes looked back up. Her hair was pearl-white and in a perfect bun. Skillful. "You came in so late at night, I didn't want to disturb you earlier."

Fiona groaned inwardly. _Yeah... difficult to find my home in these mazes. Signs are useless here.  
_

Transfixed on the prettily done white hair, Fiona reflexively stretched her arm out in greeting before she remembered the manners in Japan. Halfway during the motion she awkwardly mimicked the woman's actions. Things were going _real_ smooth already. God, she was awful when _not_ stressed. Talk about Dino being useless most of the time.

"I'm Fiona. But I guess you know that already." She pointed at the name tag right beneath the bell. She could get the hang of it back in an instant. Just you watch. Some odd minute or two and she was up and running like always. "Did you have breakfast by chance? Maybe I can serve you some as thanks for the friendly welcome." There you go. Waking the Italian charme once more, spot-on with a toothy smile and hopefully not too shabby breath.

Kumiko regarded her wrinkled clothes from head to toe. "You're a late riser! I ate a couple hours ago but I'd gladly take you up on lunch." She blinked innocently. "Only if you don't have to go somewhere? School or work, perhaps?"

The charming smile froze in place. Instead her lips twitched in alarm. Her priorities...! She'd completely forgotten! "What time is it?"

"Just past 10."

_Fuck._

 

* * *

 

Tsuna sighed. He wasn't at all surprised any longer. It was just another normal school day. Just another headache incoming for sure...

"What is she doing here?" Gokudera demanded grumpy. Just another headache...

He straightened his back. "W-Well, Fiona-san wanted to eat lunch with us. That's not a bad thing, right?" The small boy answered with a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his spiky, brown mane. That was about right. But maybe... no, he shouldn't add the fact that she'd climbed the school's facade to get up to them on the roof.

_("Mornin'!" a female voice said out of the blue._

_"HIEEEE!" Tsuna screeched as her breath brushed the back of his neck and sent goosebumps all over his body. He spun around only to be face to face with large sunglasses. From this close it looked so much like an insect, he startled out of the way that he tripped over his crossed legs and greeted the floor with his face. Ouch..._

_Fiona scaled the railing with ease and landed next to him gracefully. He'd only come up alone because Yamamoto and Gokudera were busy getting reprimanded by their teacher for the moment. One for stirring up trouble again and the other for slacking off too much. He'd thought he could enjoy the calming sight of clouds for a couple of minutes before they started bickering again.  
_

_He rubbed his throbbing face as he looked up at the disguised Mafioso. "What are you doing here?" **Wait a moment.** "How did you even get up?!" The door was on the other side!  
_

_She pointed over the railing. "I was in a hurry.")_

He really shouldn't.

Tsuna sighed again. Why was he not surprised about the illogical argument? Apparently people simply get used to the madness. Embrace it. Yeah, maybe he should do that...

The bomber harrumphed. "I may have allowed her to stay close but that doesn't mean she has to try get all intimate with Juudaime!" His hands shot around his shoulders. "How long was she here alone with you?!" His grip on Tsuna tightened in his anger. Help!

Fiona looked up, shades reflecting the cloudy sky. "Am not." She raised her sandwich. "Just eating. And making fun of you." Gokudera let go and instead clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white (he was really thankful he wasn't in _that_ deathgrip). But Tsuna had to give it to him—he really tried his best not to throw himself at her throat _instantly_ after yesterday's... meet-up.

Yamamoto laughed. Sitting closest to her, he placed a hand down on her shoulder in a friendly manner. "Maa, maa. Fiona-chan's also a part of our game now."

Gokudera pointed an accusing finger in her cross-legged direction. "She's the same age as my sister! She _shouldn't_ even be here!"

"Am not," she repeated again as she fumbled something out from her backpack. Her demeanor had loosened from their first meeting, not quite as mature as before but it might just be the Middle School Uniform that masked it away. Tsuna really hoped so. It was real dangerous enough to have the two Italians within arm's length at the same time and if she didn't keep the calm within the group, then who would?

Then again: she just climbed the school building. That alone spoke volumes to her sanity.

Still, Tsuna curiously inched closer as her fingers unclasped the purse and she held up a student ID in their faces. "Eh? You're fifteen, Fiona-san?" he asked perplexed but also slightly relieved. It's definitely a surprise as he'd always guessed her a little older despite her occasional odd behavior—

She blinked before taking a look at the card herself. "Oh, wrong one." She stuffed it away. "That's Alessio's forgery."

_—IT'S A SCAM!_

While he silently wept, body suddenly weak and wobbly just thinking about the many possibe ways this woman could complicate his middle school life, Fiona flicked up a different card. A driver's license. "I'm nineteen," she answered finally before taking another bite from her sandwich as if everything had been settled.

"Che. Close enough," Gokudera finished with crossed arms.

"Shouldn't you be in high school then?" Yamamoto asked curiously.

"Mine Japanese bad," she instantly answered, which made him laugh in turn. He wouldn't believe that sort of lame excuse now, would he? Not even Yamamoto is that gullible—

"Right! You're not even part Japanese like Gokudera over here." Tsuna's jaw dropped. _H-He fell for it! I can't believe it!_

There was that tiny, itching feeling in his gut that told him he'd managed to find another weirdo for the mismatched gang. For real. It was the same sort of feeling he'd had in the café as Reborn slowly trickled out information about her messing with the Disciplinary Committee. Which made his gut churn only testier. Even if she disguised as a (poor excuse of a) middle schooler, she was still the adult Fiona with the friendly smile. She wouldn't do something stupid as to cross paths with Hibari-san again while in disguise, would she?

Actually. Better make sure of it.

"You're a second-year, right, Fiona-san?" he asked cautiously as he placed his water bottle to his lips. All of a sudden he felt dehydrated, as if he'd run a marathon, that much his brain protested to keep up. Maybe he wouldn't even recognize her...

"Yeah. Disguising as a first-year would be a bit of a stretch, I have to admit." Her hand casually flicked away some strands of hair and the smile she threw him was brilliant.

Scratch that. She stood out too much not to be instantly recognized, no matter which year she was in. They'd meet for sure. Best stay out of it and let her handle it on her own—she'd shown her capabilities already and survived to tell the tale.

"Besides, I'm also the new head of Student Council. You can't be head as a first-year, so..." she added with a shrug.

Time stood still. Tic, toc, tic, toc, _tic, **toc...!**_

Time unwound.

Tsuna spit his water out in a glittering spray arc. "What? How?! It's only your second day at school!"

"That's amazing, Fiona-chan!" Yamamoto laughed. _No, no, no, it's not! It's horrible!  
_

She flashed the black-haired boy a grin. "I like you more than Smokey already. And he had initial compatriot bonus."

"You have to work harder, Gokudera," he grinned in turn to said boy.

"Like I want somebody like that as my friend!"

The shades glinted mischievously. "Life's much longer when you got an informant on your good side." Why were they bickering already?! And she was off to provoking him again, wasn't she?!

"Stop!" he called out just as Gokudera parted his lips in another retort. His mouth instantly snapped shut. They could bicker later all they want. "When did you join?" he asked once more. This smelled fishy. Seriously fishy. Reborn-fishy.

"Filled out the form on my first day, turned it in to the principal after school," she counted down her fingers. "Apparently there was a continuos lack of one and he welcomed me with _open_ _arms_." The sardonic smile on her lips told him _that_ little fact wasn't quite true. "Or something along those lines anyway." Premeditated harm. Right.

Which is the problem! "Why would you want to join?! You'll have to deal with Hibari-san! You've seen how dangerous he is." His main reason for panic was a different one altogether: if she was on the Student Council—head even!—did she know what _they_ had to deal with when a Mafioso is practically ruling the school? He dreaded thinking about it already.

For a moment her smile turned steel-hard, radiating a violent aura of _never remind me of the actual reasons again_ as her hand slipped protectively over the braided hair. Tsuna squirmed in his own hide. Something horrible must've happened.

Then she shrug her shoulders casually as she looked up into the sky. "I told you I deal with information." She took another bite from her sandwich, circling a heavy set of keys in her free hand she'd drawn out from some pocket. _That's not the school's keys, right? Please tell me it's not the school keys...!_

"The feeling of power is intoxicating." The shades glinted dangerously.

Tsuna gulped. This could only mean trouble, right?

 

* * *

 

Yup.

 _Exactly_ that.

But before Fiona ended up getting dragged off by her collar (trying to look as mature and dignified and shade-glinting as possible) by none other than Hibari Kyoya himself, she attracted a very different kind of trouble towards them. The _worst_ kind of trouble.

"Eh? Isn't that the girl Tsuna met in the café last time?"

"I never thought she's from our school!"

"She's a transfer student!"

"So foreign!"

"Do you think she transferred over for him?!"

"Are they dating?"

Fiona offered Tsuna a big grin. Her eyes were still hidden behind shades (why she wore them in the halls, he had no idea), a fact he was glad for for once. He could imagine the rest. "School drama is so cute," she said finally and coolly placed her hands into her skirt pockets.

His cheeks flushed from anger and embarassment. "No, it's not! Aren't you even a little worried what'd happen if that rumor spreads—"

"Nah," she cut in between. "After all _I_ decide what sort of information is allowed to spread now." Mafia tyranny initiated. He could only watch the school burn after all. Then she nudged him with her elbow. "C'mon. It's just puberty. After a while you won't even bother with it any longer. And I'm pretty at least~"

"Easy for you to say! _You_ already finished school—!"

The girls in the halls took their cue to renew their oh-so hushed conversations. "Look, they're bickering!"

"Are they that far in their relationship?!" _HUUUH?!_

"We should let her have Dame-Tsuna. Leaves more Gokudera-sama for us. He's been a bad influence on him anyway."

"Yeah, right. Dame-Tsuna and that girl suit each other best."

Gokudera was in front of the group in the blink of an eye, face as dark and threatening as a stormy night. _"They definitely do not,"_ he spat out. The girls shrunk back (still with hearts in their eyes). Tsuna sighed relieved. Although his methods were harsh and more than just _forceful_ it'd hopefully help stem the rumors back before they started to spread like wildfire across school. If Kyoko were to hear any of this, she'd definitely misunderstand—

"Tsuna-kun?"

Oh **_god!_**

His head turned mechanically to the source of the voice standing in the door frame to their class. There she was, the most beautiful smile beaming at him with a slight expression of wonderment and confusion. "Are you playing games again?" Kyoko pointed at the group behind him. Did he really even want to _look?_

"Oi, smoke screen, it's cute and all, but I can stand up for myself. Remember who saved your ass during four kidnappings by sending out the rescue squads. Right, the omniscient _me_."

Gokudera spun around, sending her a deadly glare. His patience had run thin, exploded like one of his dynamites. Fiona's sunglasses reflected his attack unimpressed. Tsuna ducked behind his hands. In case some deathly rays bounced off to the sides—there's always friendly fire _on_ between those two.

The bomber somehow retained his composure and did not keel her up by her collar again. Instead he harrumphed and crossed his arms victoriously. "As if I'd stand up for _you._ I'm just saying you're not _good_ enough to even dream of dating the Juudaime!"

The retort followed instantly. "And you are?" Almost boredly she lowered her shades and peeked over the rim. "Last time I checked you're male, so you're long since off the candidate list." The expression on Gokudera's face was one of the world shattering.

Tsuna's fingers twitched left and right, undecided whom to reach out for. The bickering pair or the smiling—beaming—Kyoko next to him, exposed to all that nonsense sprouting from those two uncouth mouths. When had he ever thought of Fiona as mature again?

It was already too late anyway.

Gokudera took the small boy's hands in his. Tsuna yelped in surprise. But his expression quickly distorted to twitching horror when he saw Gokudera's attempt at a _lovely_ face. "J-Juudaime...! Would you... only if you truly wanted... I can be _that_ as well... I simply never imagined...!" Every word was a strain on his mouth, forced out by sheer loyalty.

"DEFINITELY NOT! _"_

Fiona whistled. "He's so fun to tease," she said to Yamamoto.

"Ahaha!" He gave her a playful bump to the shoulder. "You love confusing people."

And just like that Phase 3 of trouble started. A neat transition from worse to worst; the forgotten girls' corner emitting a cloud of blackness with rumors taking on a sharper, more dangerous edge.

"Did Gokudera-sama just confess?"

"No way. I mean Dame-Tsuna? It has to be a joke."

"Yeah, I heard, like, European humor is different. Must've been some bad act she put up or something."

"Yeah, Gokudera-sama is ours..."

Fiona and Yamamoto neatly stepped away from the darkness crawling up their backs.

"Didn't expect that outcome..." she whispered to him.

"At least they forgot about the other rumors," he whispered right back. Hm. Point taken.

And between it all, the cherry on top his misery—Kyoko chuckled! What a beautiful sound it was...! Ah, snap out of it Tsuna! She's going to berate you! He paled and despaired, waving his arms and forcing Gokudera to stand up on his own two legs again, ignoring the angry sparks—why always him?!—and trying to explain.

"I—it's not what it looks like! Gokudera was just picking up—"

"Looks like you're having fun. I'm glad." Eh? D-Did he hear right? "You seemed a little gloomy after hospital, so I was worried." Another chuckle, slightly relieved but ever so cute. Fireworks exploded inside his head. _Kyoko-chan! I can die happily now!_

How was he supposed to deal with the rest of the rumor mill, though?

An arm sneaked around Gokudera's shoulder, turned him to face the crowd and forced his head to bow theatrically. "The show's over! Enjoy another round of Italia's Spontanous Roleplay Roadshow featuring Benivieni Fiona and her stalwart lackey Gokudera Hayato next time! We'll definitely come to _your_ classroom as well." Tsuna stared bewildered.

_That's your method of dealing with this?!_

The corridor fell silent until...

Yamamoto clapped first. He gave Tsuna a playful wink and suddenly he understood. As the rest of the corridor slowly followed the popular boy's example and filled the halls with whooping cheers, the girls' anger evaporated to admiring the grey-head's acting skills, Fiona thanked them with more bows, struggling to keep a fuming Gokudera in check, these guys had somehow managed to turn the tables altogether. In his favor.

Warmth flooded his chest. _You guys...!_ As a team they were truly strong.

Even Kyoko clapped excitedly. "So it's roleplay this time. How fun! You guys are really good!" A new flush caught his head aflame. If this wasn't heaven already, he'd not know better. Everything looked so bright in this very instant. "So being gloomy was also a part of this. You had me, Tsuna-kun!" W-Well, not quite the truth but if she wasn't mad or anything...

Too quick did the short-lasting heaven spiral back down the roadway to hell.

The voice was smooth, laced with danger and dripping with bloodthirst. "Flocking again, herbivores? Class is about to start. I should bite you to death for the commotion you cause."

Before anybody could fully comprehend, freezing on the spot with the shiver of recognition racing down their backs, Fiona had already spun around, lips parted, one arm raised to clean some mock-sweat from 'acting' off her forehead. "That voice can only belong to my dearest Kyo—"

The tonfa met her throat instantly. The two of them crashed into the windows and for a brief moment everybody feared Hibari would actually bite off a chunk of flesh.

"— _yaaaa..._ we've been there already," she hastily finished with raised arms.

Yup.

Trouble.

 

* * *

 

"You have guts." There's a smirk ghosting across his lips that only briefly reached his slanted eyes. Calm superiority resonates off his every carefully chosen move as he moved to sit down behind an oaken table.

 _And you too much testosterone,_ she answered inwardly. The difference in atmosphere before and now could not be greater. He's practically oozing off it. Quite a deed for a middle school student, not that he could be placed within the norm.

Her eyes wandered off to the right of him. A tall teenager with the same unsettling Elvis hairstyle and leather jacket draped over his uniform stood rigid still in the corner. He chewed on a bit of greenery, eyeing her back the same through dark eyes and dark sideburns framing his chiseled face. In many aspects he was the complete opposite of the young boy-devil but she could see in his posture a sense of pride that came from being in a higher regarded position than others. His right hand, perhaps? She'd make sure to take count of the number of his followers and their positions as soon as possible.

Hefting the sunglasses to the top of her shirt, she raised her head to face the challenge with a lopsided sneer. "By just greeting you? You must be truly terrifying." She purposedly left the allusion hanging mid-air.

Black hair fell long and neat by his eyes and the row of large windows at his back showcased the rising good weather aiming for spring. The air around him grew thicker; enough to suffocate anyone trespassing close enough. But he didn't take the bait this time. He'd learned her provocative ways. Truly not your average middle schooler.

Hibari leaned back in his chair. "Only when I find out that an adult is trespassing my school grounds disguised as a middle school student." She would have cheered at his witty answer and attempt to prove he can play along her tune just fine if his words weren't as grave as they were.

How the hell did he find out _already?_

He threw two folders on the table. A tiny gesture of his hand invited her to freely look over them. And possibly get torn apart by his aura alone but she braved the distance nonetheless, almost poignant excitement throbbing through her veins. He offered quite the challenge. Fiona flipped the files open and rose a brow.

_Oh?_

She knew all eyes were on her but the rising pressure only helped to calm her. Oh, she couldn't decipher most of the Japanese gibberish but it was clear those were two different files on her—both owned a picture in the upper right corner, neat rows of something scribbled all the way down. Information. With one minor difference glaring clear and readable up: differentiating birthdates. 19 years opposed to 15.

A grin graced her features, pure and unaltered. Why, that little... "What about medical confidentiality nowadays?" He's influential for sure. Her eyes briefly darted to the Elvis in the corner. Or perhaps extraordinarily thuggish in his methods. "My dear forger has been slacking off."

"I have all sorts of contacts," he answered almost friendly, one side of his lips curved up. Completely mirthless. Despite his voice neutral, ever the predator he kept his eyes trained on her, sharp and intense. Yet even as he drilled through to her very core the first thought crossing her mind was that of them holding their first actual conversation with each other.

There The Fisher cast the fishing rod first, _disparate pattern_. Why would he prefer to talk, instead of act, when she was clearly trespassing his territory?

Going with the flow of throbbing excitement she swung herself atop the table, crossing one leg over the other with a content hum as she looked up the ceiling for a moment. Her fingers rested unfar from his, arms keeping her body steadied in place. "So, you're not going to let me do however I please just like that." She turned to watch his reaction.

For a second his eyes darted down but he caught himself quickly. The fishing rod stirred. _A fighter. Headstrong. Bloodthirsty. Merciless. Proud. True to his word._

And she, with a tiny scar on her knuckles to prove it all.

"What do you want in my school?" _  
_

_True to his word,_ Fiona repeated.

Oh my.

Judging by the way his expression darkened her enlightened grin must have left no doubt even to him that this little game was over in her favor. She raised her right hand, turned to inspect it. How he watched her every move; the tiny white scar dancing back and forth. Of course. There could only be one winner in their battle. And she'd cheated them both out of their deal, drawing out a tie due to one solitary moment of protectiveness when she'd shielded his eyes from the onslaught of icicles.

"What could I want?" she asked innocently, pursing her lips. A simple, impulsive act left enough a lingering presence to tame his temper for so long. From this close she could hear it, the supressed fire within him crackling. The proud type, indeed. He'd not hold out much longer. "I dunno: infiltrate it?"

His tonfa shot up to her jaw. Ever for the head. "Then I'll have to bite you to death."

Fiona offered him a warm smile and leaned in close, hand grasping the cool surface of the tonfa. He wasn't blazing yet. His pride still held him back and he clearly hated it; so much so he'd gone as far as to find her in hospital, to repay a debt to a complete stranger possibly leaving town the very next day. He could not live with himself, carrying a debt to someone.

 _"You're not from Namimori."_ And he is so terribly middle school student awkward with his paraphrasing asking.

She'd give him what he wanted, because she liked his unyielding mindset, a forwardness hidden beneath layers of a personality seemingly simple to grasp but going so much deeper. Qualities you find so rarely, she found herself caught in an inescapable net, catapulted back to a day before the incident of that fateful night two years ago. And now she's here, right in front of him.

Hibari Kyoya. You prideful jerk. Time to break the ice—hook, line and sinker. "You owe me, Kyoya."

This time spikes _gently_ brushed her veins.

Blue danced within gray. His breathing steady against her skin. "So if I let you into my school the debt's paid?"

She held his gaze, didn't inch away. "Right-o. My transfer is a legal ordeal actually." To a degree. A long stretch of silence followed, filled with only warm breath and the slight shuffle of leather in the background. It's either do or die now.

Hibari dropped his arm. Fiona leaned back as her neck was released. The deal was sealed. She slid back down onto the carpet and made her way out of the office.

"Herbivore." Fiona stopped mid-stride. Hibari Kyoya stood tall, his back turned towards the large windows and the sole cloud in the sky, meeting her head-on with liquid steel completely unabashed. "My debt is paid with this. If you violate the rules, I _will_ bite you to death."

She blinked once before she grinned. Straightforward, unyielding and utterly honest. Her hand found the handle, scar moving as she pressed the door open. "Heard you loud and clear."


	6. Valentine's Day

Fiona stretched her limbs like a cat and yawned openly when the bell finally rung, classes over. School was taxing. All that getting up early in the morning, doing homework and preparing for tests planned somewhere down the line. Her caffeine count rose with each passing day.

For a brief moment she closed her eyes, enjoying relaxed bliss to its fullest before opening them once more to tackle the rest of the day no matter the form it took—in this case meaning suddenly getting greeted by two pairs of big, round eyes looking expectantly at her out of nowhere.

She blinked. "Hi?"

The girls slammed their heads down and into the table that Fiona startled out of her seat and more than a few heads snapped around. "Fiona-chan!" they exclaimed.

"Yes!"

One girl raised her head from the humbling bowing position and never did the Italian see such pleading, desperate eyes as she did right now. "We need your help!"

... huh?

Some minutes of chasing the boys out of class, letting in a good three dozen girls from across all years in like sheep and arranging tables to fit the grandeur of a battle conference, the strangely approached situation was finally cleared up.

Hence Fiona stood in front of all those young beauties like some great politician, missing only the appropriate wardrobe. She placed two fingers on her temple as her mind processed the problem at hand. Real simple actually.

"So, what you're saying is... Valentine's Day is tomorrow and you don't want your chocolate to be confiscated for..." She frowned. " _Crowding._ "

Collective nod.

"And me—soon passing the record for longest surviving head of Student Council—has to put in a good word for you to my friendly colleague from the Disciplinary Committee."

Collective (hesitant) nod.

Well, she knew who'd definitely be delighted to see her again so soon.

 

* * *

 

Hibari regarded her with only a side glance before continuing reading that tiny book of his. "No."

Fiona placed her hands on his desk. "Pretty please?" He didn't even look up this time. Oh, who am I kidding? "Come on! This school needs some new couples to balance out that black cloud of your leather gang." The numbers she'd gathered were truly frightening. This guy's personal army was _encompassing_ to put it lightly.

"Leave my office, herbivore. Rules will be upheld per usual." _At your leisure,_ she mentally completed with an eye-roll. Not that she'd let him write her off that easily. A middle school kid trumping over Vongola's top informant? Ha! Didn't work out the first time around, boy.

"I'm the Student Council. Every room partially belongs to me and every action concerning school activities is to be discussed with _me,_ as well. Until _both_ parties find a worthwhile compromise." She crossed her arms, stared down at him. "I'm not budging an inch."

His eyes flashed dangerously. He laid the book down. "This is my school."

"Our school."

His patience snapped. "We'll see about that."

She dashed through the door like a mad rabbit when he lunged for her.

So much for the diplomatic approach.

 

* * *

 

Tsuna sighed as he came back home. He'd just been returned an English test and his grades stayed a steady _bad_. If he'd only had a real homeroom teacher and not a Mafioso trying to mess up his life. How peaceful it could be then. Instead he heard the squeaky voice of I-pin arguing with Lambo's screeching over food _again._

Another sigh left his lips as he entered the loud kitchen. He felt way older than he should. Too much weight on his shoulders. "I'm home—What are _you_ doing here?!"

Fiona turned around with a mouthful of rice. "Yo."

His mom raised her chopsticks reprimanding. "Tsu-kun, don't be so rude! Your new schoolmate just wanted to introduce herself."

Fiona nodded and swallowed. "You're a spoiled kid to have such a lovely mother. The food is excellent, by the way," the Italian trespasser added and beamed over the laid table banquet.

Mom beamed right back. "Oh my! Now you're exaggerating."

One of Tsuna's brows twitched madly. This... this...! He was speechless. How had she already wrapped his mother around her little finger?! When did she even get here, when he'd headed straight home from school without much of a disturbance for once? _  
_

He inched closer to the blonde woman in disguise. "At least warn me you're coming over!" he whispered harshly from the corner of his mouth.

She equally inconspicuously whispered back. "I'm hiding. Jerk knows where my apartment is by now." Tsuna paled at that. The one person Fiona dared brave when nobody else wouldn't. She could only be talking about Hibari Kyoya.

"Y-You two have a strange relationship." _Please, let him not find her,_ he pleaded inwardly. His household _definitely_ counted as crowding. They'd all be killed off!

Flicking her braid over her shoulder, she just shrugged. "Keeps my physique top-notch, though. Lost a pound already." Ahaha...ha...ha.

Why does Reborn only ever bring the strange ones to his house?

When Lambo and I-pin started chasing each other all over the kitchen, he took the chance to sit down next to his schoolmate. For a moment he was at a loss of words. Should he even attempt conversation? All he really wished for was just a peaceful afternoon...

She turned to him first, propping her face up on her arm with a concentrated expression. "How do I keep a leash on that guy? Hayato's easy—just take you as a shield." Tsuna plucked some noodles from his soup and munched down. Yeah. He never came out unscathed from their bickering; mainly traumatized in mind if not wounded physically, but still. At least Fiona and Gokudera were placed in different years otherwise there'd never be a moment of peace.

While he'd been lost in thoughts, she'd already continued whatever was boggling her mind. He only caught onto the last bits. "... only resort to violence." She turned to the side. "Hey, _mamma._ " Tsuna choked on the next noodles. These Italians are way too casual! First Dino and now she! "Do you know how to best convince a guy Valentine's Day isn't all that shabby?"

Even the noodles in his throat froze in place. What? Did he hear right?

Mom still contemplated on the answer when another voice cut in then. "Give him a chocolate of Love, of course." Mature and sultry the voice hovered in from the door. Every hair on his body stood on end. Oh no. Not—

Bianchi entered the kitchen, a motorcycle helmet in the hook of one arm, the other resting on the naked slip of skin above her hip that the hem of her t-shirt revealed. "No man will be able to resist you then."

—Worst. Timing. Ever.

It didn't help calm his nerves—and completely buried any chance of serenity—when Fiona jumped up from the table with a big grin plastered to her face, exclaiming a happy "Bianchi!" before giving the other female Mafioso a tight hug.

So. Screwed.

Bianchi eventually leaned back, hands still lingering on Fiona's elbows. "Reborn told me you were in town. Long time no see, Fisher."

"Yeah, stuff happened," she answered sheepish. Then she hooked arms with the maroon-head. "Anyhow, about that chocolate you mentioned. I just got a wonderful idea we should talk about. You still into Poison Cooking?"

Trouble would brew. And Tsuna feared the worst.

 

* * *

 

The atmosphere at school on Valentine's Day differed greatly in comparison to the rest of the year. A buzzing curiosity and tension kept the boys on edge and fidgeting, turning heads in hopes of seeing that one girl or two they'd wished to see giggling at the end of a hallway with a small, red ribboned package only waiting to be given to one's heart's desire—

Mainly Yamamoto and Gokudera, that is.

"Man, those two sure are popular." Tsuna jumped in surprise as dark blonde strands brushed his cheeks.

"HIIIE! Don't scare me like that!" Fiona slowly bobbed her head in reminiscence of a nod before withdrawing it from his shoulder. She stood her full height and yawned heartily. He could smell the faint scent of chocolate on her.

Meanwhile girls swarmed the two boys in the corridors; Yamamoto laughing as usual as he thanked each girl personally while Gokudera tried to outrun them in the most casual fast walk he could muster. They kept up with him well, though.

The Italian next to him sighed at that. "If I'd known they'd cluster around two corridors _only_ I'd have just locked them away instead... would've gotten more sleep..."

Trouble stirred early. One corner of his lips twitched furiously as he turned to the woman. "Fiona-san." His voice was completely strained with underlying dread. "What exactly did you do?"

"Student Council business, friend," she shot back instantly and pocketed her hands in her skirt. It was all the answer he needed to fear the consequences already. He feared the moment she became head of student council that more chaos would ensue at school. Look at where they were now. Luckily Yamamoto managed to break out of the circle surrounding him in that very moment to join them, keeping his thoughts elsewhere for the moment.

With arms full of chocolate in varying sizes and forms he stopped in front of the two with a big smile on his face. Tsuna strained his neck to spot Gokudera skidding around a corner—his endeavor ended with females behind him apparently _multiplying._

"Haah~ This is so tiring. I don't remember last year being this busy, do you Tsuna?" Said boy bit back a bitter laugh. Of course Yamamoto's vision of this event _slightly_ differed from his. Dame-Tsuna doesn't get any chocolates whatsoever. Still a tiny voice squeaked and squirmed inside his mind: Even if it's still morning, but perhaps this year, with Kyoko...

A man could hope, right?

Outwardly he shrug his shoulders. "Well," he stole a glance in Fiona's direction. "Without Hibari-san's Committee around the girls seem braver."

Yamamoto hummed in thought, balancing on one leg to slide the received chocolates inside his backpack. "Yeah, I haven't seen a single one so far. They're usually on time." He yanked the zipper close. "Did you give chocolate to anyone, Fiona-chan?"

"If you count me being busy drugging said Disciplinary Committee with chocolates, then yes, I did." The tall boy laughed merrily at that. Tsuna's face drained of all its color.

"You did what?!"

"Student Council business, hush now." The smile by her lips spoke of sinister tales.

Yamamoto patted him on his frozen shoulder. "She's just trying to be friends with them. Look at how Hibari and she get along!"

Well... not so well, maybe?!

Fiona nodded and sniffed at the ends of her pony tail. "'Least I smell delicious now. Can't get the smell from baking out my clothes." Then it was her turn to rummage through her backpack. She pulled out two neatly ribboned sachets with chocolate coated cookies piling up atop another inside. "These are for you guys. Just as friends, no lovey-dovey stuff. My friendly neighbor lady told me that there's a difference."

Tsuna blinked in surprise as the rustling sachet landed on his open palms. Well, that was actually very nice of—

She leaned in close to his ear and mouthed a "Take it as an apology in case you get dragged down to hell with me within the next hour. I do not mean premeditated harm, remember?"

—forget it. We're talking about the person behind the mysterious absence of the whole Disciplinary Committee. She's only trying to change topics and confuse them as usual!

Yamamoto didn't own such thoughts obviously, too gullible in nature and not nearly as easy to provoke and jump onto the matter like a certain busy grey-head. "Thanks! And what are you saying? All chocolates I received today are friend chocolates." Tsuna and Fiona exchanged glances. Yeah right. One look at the females still gawking behind his back and giggling like there's no tomorrow spoke volumes. Thoroughly a naïve guy.

Deciding not to dwell on it any longer, Fiona casually pointed over their heads. "So, anybody think he's ever going to finish his rounds today?" She shook a third cookie-filled sachet between her fingers.

The boys turned around, watching Gokudera increase his pace and head up the stairs under cursing. Yamamoto placed a hand behind his head and ruffled the black hair. "I think it'll take a while. You should head on to class or else you'll be late." Fiona was just about to nod when a voice cut in through the hall, low and menacing.

" _Herbivore._ "

Fiona zipped up her backpack and pulled it over one shoulder. "I guess I will be anyway."

 

* * *

 

They headed up the stairs in silence. Fiona was on guard. Silence wasn't good per se, especially when she'd predicted a lovely fighting outburst, lusting after her blood dripping all over the ground in agony. Best check how deep the waters are before the storm fully engulfed her.

"You _could_ just call me by my name if you need something." She glanced to the side. No reaction. Just the steady flutter of the jacket draped over his shoulders as they ascended.

Oh, he was royally pissed.

By now she knew where they were headed. No other place in school was as far up as the roof. The past couple weeks had been filled with misadventures—and the roof one of her short-lived hiding places before he sniffed out evem that one. It was sheer luck she had no discernible bruises to show so far. He definitely didn't like defiant student councils.

Hibari opened the door and she cautiously stepped out to a clear blue sky on the roof. Quick glance left and right—check, all safe. Until his voice finally broke the silence. "You really wish to die."

He was fast. Faster than ever before.

Before she knew it he'd gotten ahold of her wrist and yanked it painfully hard behind her back. She could almost feel the bone in her shoulder pop out of its socket from the sudden force. Using her temporary distraction he pushed her and she stumbled backwards until she was pressed tight against the railing and his body, leaving her torso dangling dangerously far over the metal. A spiked tonfa hovered close over neck and collarbone.

Fiona grinned with a beating heart. "You people seriously shouldn't get an informant on your bad side." She felt the spikes touch her throat, stressing the skin without breaking. "But you keep on trying _so hard_."

Whatever flashed through his eyes for the split-second following her statement quickly vanished, replaced by the flare of anger and competition. "Perhaps you should think first before harming my men instead, herbivore. You violated the rules." Ah, so he'd overheard _that_ particular part. She thought she'd felt a presence lurking nearby.

A grim smile ghosted across his lips. "I warned you."

She finished him off with one last, devastating line. "And I did say 'compromise'."

It was all it took to snap patience's thread. The muscles on his fingers constricted, tonfa glinting as the sun hit the steely surface—

—Fiona pushed herself off the railing.

His eyes widened in surprise as his prey slid away from his grasp, tonfas cutting away at the buttoned-up shirt instead of skin. For a moment the world consisted only of the bright sky and her body toppling, tips of long hair framing her vision as gravity reeled her in; chest slipping inch by inch over cool metal until it brushed her upper leg and she fell—

She locked the long limbs tight around his waist. _Gotcha._

Like a caught animal, he reared up instinctively, fighting against the sudden strong pull. As soon as the sky stopped rotating, her hands found a hold of the railing and with a twist of her body she twirled herself back up, released her clutch on him and kicked him in the gut upon landing. He grunted and staggered back the moment she spun to a standing position once more, flicking her hair over a shoulder in one fluid motion. The white shirt of her uniform clung in tatters to her body.

"Wao," he whistled before he lunged at her.

"Always a pleasure," she answered as she braced herself for the attack.

"Hibari-san, stop!"

They did hear the yell. She knew she did. But maybe he couldn't stop in time and maybe she took one step too far. Whatever the reason, their feet touched, eyes locked, and a spike buried itself deep into the crook of her neck.

Biting, stinging, burning and boiling _pain._

"Fuuuuuck!" she cursed and flailed backwards, only increasing the burn as the weapon slid out of her flesh with a loud _slosh._ Even with her hands pressed against the wound, the blood gushed out in pulsating bursts past her fingers. She went to her knees, reddening the tiles. "Oh, you shitty lunatic," she muttered through gritted teeth and sent him a glare but he was occupied elsewhere already.

In the doorway stood a handful of Elvises, upfront none other than culm-eating Kusakabe Tetsuya with a slightly opened mouth in what she presumed must have been either the daring interruption or a curse finding its way past the greenery.

At least he had the dignity to look slightly worried about the lady in pain over yonder.

"What's the matter?" Hibari casually asked. As casual as _you better have a good reason or else it's going to be your head first_ can be.

Kusakabe squirmed in his own hide. "Shouldn't we first—" He hesitantly pointed in her direction.

"Don't mind me," she cut in with a raised arm, completely reassuring and all that while inwardly her heart raced like mad. If that blood so much as touched her hair...! "Please continue. Shit, you did a good job on me."

"Watch your language, herbivore."

"I can't even curse?!"

He simply turned his attention back to the gathered Disciplinary Committee. What a jerk.

To her surprise the Elvises suddenly bowed a perfect 90 degrees. "We apologize for our lateness!" they exclaimed jointly. Kusakabe looked up first. "The Disciplinary Committee cannot arrive without proper uniform to their work place. Somebody played a prank and hid them altogether. It took some time to find the items." He looked over to the Italian, ridiculed. "Mine were buried beneath the garden shack."

That expression.

Fiona's long supressed laughter finally bubbled up to the surface.

She doubled over—half in pain, half under laughter—and simply let go. Oh, the unintentional hilarity in Hibari's face as he noticed that something was off when his subordinates recalled their stories one by one: of stolen styling gel, leather jackets hidden in the most ridiculous places (grandma's undies, she remembered for one), and partially missing or mismatching school uniforms. All of them ended the same way, though.

The Elvises pulled out sachets of chocolate and cookies, some opened up, others a little rough around the edges, but all of them in the same neatly ribboned manner.

Hibari stared at her.

Totally worth it.

Fiona let out a breathy chuckle as she finally gathered her composure. She'd stayed up all night for this undertaking. "Yeah, drugging them wasn't _quite_ the option. I chose to befriend them instead. The Student Council and Disciplinary Committee will have to work close together after all."

 _"No man will be able to resist you then."_ Truer words had never been spoken by that wise woman.

That her poison cooking didn't _quite_ produce the initially intended results is a whole 'nother matter. Bianchi turned more deadly with each passing year. Nobody needed to know she'd burned the stuff before aiming for Plan B because Plan A almost involved evacuating her apartment and probably the rest of the city alongside. Because acid.

With a toothy smile—fingers still pressed tightly to the wound—she turned to the dumbfounded men. "Happy Valentine's Day, guys. Hope we'll get along better from now on."

They shared glances; between themselves, the sachets, Hibari. Eventually their eyes fell on the Italian in disguise again. A couple of them opened their mouth to say something but they never got a word out.

"You purposely delayed students from coming to school and deprived them of their ability to act out on school-relevant safety protocols. The reason they are part of the Disciplinary Committee," Hibari broke the silence with a serious face.

Fiona huffed her cheeks and got up to one knee. "C-O-M-P-R-O-M-I-S-E. Wouldn't have had to if you'd simply talked with me."

"This is my school."

" _Our_ school."

He raised his tonfa. Fiona's feet moved on their own.

They're buddies again, all right.

 

* * *

  **Extended Cut!**

* * *

 

By the time Hibari returned home it had turned dark outside.

Shutting the door close after him and slipping out of his shoes and jacket, he also pulled out a blue parcel from one of his pant's pockets. He held it between his fingers like a fragile load, eyeing it with mild curiosity. Tiny rills followed the length of the wrapped gift he'd received during his usual patrol through Namimori from the tiny baby girl, not far from his house and just before the sun fully set.

Even without opening the lid it smelled faintly of chocolate.

He stepped into the living room and placed the simple but elegant parcel down onto the end table before heading for the kitchen.

Only to be greeted by a tiny ribboned sachet sitting atop the counter filled with chunks of thin, dark chocolate the moment he entered. He rose a brow and stepped up to the mysterious item. Next to it lay a small note written in a curved, extravagant writing. The absence of Kanji revealed the author even when she hadn't left a name.

_"You're definitely the bittersweet type._

__Happy Valentine's Day._ "_

Hibari tugged at the ribbon. How did she manage to sneak into his house?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day everyone! We don't always need to be all lovey-dovey-fluffy to get through the day. ;p Drugging your beloved is always an option, but, uh, you didn't hear it from me, okay? Ahem.
> 
> And since we're at it (I couldn't fit it anywhere else): If you squint real hard, you can just maybe spot some fluff in the Extended Cut. But it might also be your imagination. ;)


	7. Survival of the Fittest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any references to (braided) hairstyles, I refer to either _Cute Girls Hairstyles_ or _Missy Sue_ on youtube. Just look the name up to find the looks because I'd be lost on how to name (or describe!) these creations otherwise.

Her alarm went off with shrill ringing. Fiona fell out of bed in a heap of blankets and a similar pile of curses. The wooden flooring smelled of lemon-fragranced coating and a thin layer dust.

She cracked her eyes open tentatively.

Why must the sun rise anew every goddamn day?

 

* * *

  **A Day in the Life of a Mafioso.**

**Late Morning  
**

* * *

 

It's easy to divide the different stages she went through over the course of a regular day. _Regular_ being highly emphasized here. Because it always started out normal enough...

 _"Down, down, down, down, down!"_ The chant was in perfect unison although it was difficult to say whom they actually rooted for.

Ryohei's face was pulled up in a frown, a canine peeking through his strained, pursed lips. Fiona ground her teeth in equal strain that she feared they'd crack under the pressure. _Come on...!_ she pleaded. _Budge!_ The cheering grew to a deafening peak—

With a roar erupting from his lips Ryohei slammed her hand hard into the desk that she yelped in pain. "Fuuuuck," she whined as she went down.

"A measly 4.1 seconds," the impromptu referee (aka the class rep) declared with a glance at his stopwatch and the audience howled like wolves. "Try harder next time." He offered her a friendly, glass-rimmed smile before turning to the masses like a great roman spokesman. "Anyone else wanna challenge the champion?!"

Aaaaand silence.

"Pumped to the EXTREME!" the winner whooped with raised bandaged arms.

Sasagawa "The Beast" Ryohei—no one could hope to best him at arm wrestling.

Fiona paused to regard her misused hand. _I know. I know it hurts, don't cry anymore._ Then she blew over the red hand print across her own digits like the beaten puppy she felt like. It still throbbed in a silent whine.

Ryohei jabbed a finger directly at her face as sudden as his every movement was and oh-so-gently pulled her back into the real world. "That's how you do it, Benny! Now you have to join the Boxing Club!" If she'd not researched it herself she would've never believed that guy to be the brother of the so cute and naïve Kyoko. Hell, even armed with that knowledge the resemblance was difficult to spot.

By now she'd taken to circling and massaging her wrist in an attempt to ease the pain. "I don't remember betting with you. No."

"But you have a strong grip!" _Is this sarcasm? Is he actually capable of sarcasm? Hand, what do you think?_

Throb, throb, throb.

_Thought so._

"It's more a thing of knowing where the dent in the desk is." She motioned towards the heavy inward bulge caused by too many fierce finishing moves on those that had sat here before and which he'd crushed in a relatable fashion. A collective circle of red hands grinned sheepishly. Why had she taken up the challenge again? Right—some wicked idea to speed into the infirmary to avoid the embarrassment of Japanese class. Not knowing Kanji sucks.

Throb, throb, throb.

Didn't quite work out.

Ryohei stared in astonishment at his own doing. Then he gaped at her. "WHAT?! You tricked me?!"

"Just evening the odds," she retorted promptly. _  
_

His eyes gleamed with determination. He slammed his elbow back into the wood, on the same side as the dent. "Rematch!"

She gingerly withdrew her mangled limb. "No way."

They sat in the last row by Ryohei's desk. She mused that their homeroom teacher situated him there time after time most likely because his loud organ taken upfront manhandled each and every one of the teaching personnel otherwise. Just a friendly guess of course.

Still. Fiona liked his straightforwardness. It's a trait she treasured, really, if she could only find a way to dam the over-eagerness that came along with it. Seriously, the pain he could deal out! It's like being sliced up by Hibari's tonfa all over again. What a lovely Valentine's Day present _that_ had been after all the effort she'd been through. She peeked at the reddening knuckles. The small scar had faded to a less visible shade but when she ran her thumb over it she could still feel the roughened texture beneath.

Fiona sighed and forced a halt to her thoughts. Focus and prioritize: She wanted coffee, a massage and the quickest way back to bed. A solid list.

Ryohei's booming laughter caught her attention back to reality. "Didn't think you had it in you! But you're with Sawada so you must be strong, right?"

She leaned into her backrest as the crowd dispersed into their own little groups around them and a steady buzz of conversations filled the air. A satisfied grin slid across her lips. "I guess so."

"Jeez, she's the head of Student Council. That speaks for itself," a different voice altogether answered from behind her shoulder.

Fiona craned her neck to greet her classmate casually resting one arm on her shoulder as soon as he approached. "Yo, Arata." She sensed another presence stalking him. Her face lit up. "And Mousie!"

An angry squawk hovered over. "Oi! Stop calling me that!"

"Aw, but you're just so cu— _oof!_ " Oh, for the love of... Searching fingers reached overhead to get a firm hold on that messy, black nest of curls Arata called hair. "Don't fall asleep on me again, you rascal."

With a light squeeze to her shoulder, the black mop further nuzzled into her neck, comfortably placing more of his weight atop her own and engulfing her in a clingy embrace of manly odor. "But your hair is so soft," he mumbled. He was losing it again. Great.

She sent Ryohei a warning glare when his lips started to part in a full-fledged grin. "You could at least try to—" More weight stopped her mid-sentence; strands of black tickling her chin. She huffed in exasperation. Of all the people it must be the _giant_ to be narcotic. " _Ryohei,_ " she warned some more. Which translated as: _If he messes up my beautifully done Winding Lace Braid Ponytail, I'm gonna kick all your asses into oblivion again._

"Alright, alright," he laughed out as he reached over and shouldered the knocked-out Arata with ease. A quick glance to her pocket mirror affirmed that nothing was amiss. Every knot was in its place. You don't mess with this artwork easily and leave unscathed. As she combed through the lower strands with her fingers she noticed someone in the back of it whom she'd nearly forgotten.

Ah, the sly grin was back in an instant. "Cute little Mousies should not hide behind such large men as Arata. Don't just stand there like a lost puppy."

She could almost feel the tremble traveling down said boy's body. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance; chubby cheeks puffed up and brows pulled down in an agitated frown. "If you weren't a girl I'd have hit you so hard already." He held his head high and mighty as he strutted past them—Ryohei just about managed to plonk a snoozing Arata down in a stray chair—but the boiling kettle was palpable beneath the deceptively cool layer of skin.

Fiona propped her head on her palm. "Aren't you the chevalier."

Mouse crossed his arms defiantly. There we go. "No use hitting a monster. Too much fur to get through."

"Now you're just talking about Arata's fuzz. I'm as smooth as a baby's bottom all over my body and my hair's a sight to behold."

She had to give him credit: for a middle schooler he kept his cool pretty well. Tsuna would have started stuttering from now on. "An ogress is smooth all over as well, I heard."

"That's missing the chevalier point by a large margin, you know?"

"Only getting across my point, Miss Student Council." He bobbed his head in a mock-bow. "Never meant the chevalier one." That cheeky little bastard. She loved him.

The pair was an odd one: On one hand we have Kurosawa Arata, a six-foot tall bundle of lean limbs with a black-haired nest of curls atop his head; full, pouty lips generally pulled up in one mischievous grin or the other, and eyes similarly aglow with glee; he was the sort of guy to stand out in a crowd like a celebrity. He was a looker, all right _._ Playing as a regular on the baseball team alongside Yamamoto (who praised him for his dangerous curve balls) only added the cherry on top his popular looks, it would seem.

 _If_ his whimsical nature didn't get the best of him and he ended up (over-)sleeping (training), looking at the clouds or rushing off to do something else entirely out of boredom or childish curiosity. Instead that the girls went all crazy over him, he, against all logical sense of sex-appeal, managed to invoke motherly instincts first, love-related one last. His narcoleptic tendencies didn't help the issue. The female side of the classroom cushioned his desk with cute, frilled pillows for him to fall on as to not hurt his head before his fuzzy hair ended up as one braid experiment or the other.

What a shame.

Hayashi Isamu on the other hand... He made her smile against all odds. Your smaller-than-average Japanese, and though his well-combed hair was shiny and fluffy like chicklet feathers it helped only bring out his overall chubbiness instead of concealing it. His eyes were beads in his face and his presence practically invisible when you passed him on the streets but boy could he lash out when annoyed. His detention count due to constant arguing with the teachers was appropiate—most of the time he does it in the name of the big child sleeping in the chair over yonder, head embedded into cute, frilled pillows; his best friend. A true mother dragon lingering in its lair. Again the motherly instincts. Arata does his job well.

Suffice to say that Fiona loved her sharp-witted wars. There's just something about dancing around the limit of pure hatred and an unwilling liking that never gets boring. Pressing all the right spots with teasing and provoking without ever crossing the border towards the bad was a thrilling game which she enjoyed to do with a number of people the most. This one little Japanese is among the top.

And Isamu's (nicknamed Mouse) number one rule to behold? He was not cute. _Ever._

"Just because I'm Student Council doesn't make me an ogress," she retorted with a pout.

Mouse tapped his forehead. "You're head to head with the Disciplinary Committee. Either you're a monstrous ogre or have some screws loose."

Fiona shrug her shoulders. "Sounds like jealousy to me."

"Jealous?" He snorted. "Nah, I treasure what femininity I have." Femininity?! In what part wasn't she feminine? Hell, where is he more feminine than she, is the question, that cheeky menace! These brats are so ungrateful for the daily sight they are offered—she tried her very best to look presentable every day. Try being born a woman before you judge, bastard!

Just as she was about to open her mouth to retort, Ryohei patted her on the shoulder on his way back to his seat. "Don't worry, Benny. I'm on your side. You don't have any screws loose." _Hmm?_ The boxer faced the boy with a determined expression. She perked up with interest. What could he have to offer? "You should see her footwork—I've never seen any ogre run so fast!" He slammed a curled hand into his open palm. "She's got to be the Queen of Ogres!"

For once even Fiona was at a loss of words.

_Stage 1: Go through a normal day of class.  
_

 

* * *

  **Midday**

* * *

 

"Your work?"

Not for the first time she wondered why that guy was not already a part of the Mafia. A hitman specifically. He fit the role so extraordinarily she simply had the urge to recruit him over, let him become one of Vongola's best. Also to make sure to have her name mentioned in the process because a little awe among her peers doesn't hurt. Concentrating back on the present, though.

The beaten, bent, and mishandled desk rattled as she turned it between her hands to inspect it. She hadn't even noticed the wood splinters. "Nah." _Not entirely true._ "Was just about to make a report to the principal." _Not entirely true either._ She flicked a flake of dangling wood off. "Maybe do a formal request for sturdier furniture while I'm at it."

She did say it started out normal enough.

Hibari regarded her coolly from behind his desk. "If you knew how to properly regulate troublemakers it would not be needed." He nodded in the general direction of the vandalized school furniture. "Who's the culprit? My men will deal with him." Steel lit up to a brighter shade at the prospect of orderly punishment and Fiona resisted the urge to take a step back.

The famed cooperation was—for once—not as she esteemed it to be. Not when she was _so_ close on the verge of breaking his precious rules. Any misstep and she'd be out of the game and she really did not wish to think about Reborn's reaction to that. It's not like the cranky comment about her going to join the _Karate Club_ instead of the _Boxing Club_ because of her _so amazing footwork_ had ticked Ryohei off enough to prove his club's supremacy and almost hit her square in the face...

_("If it's my footwork you praise I should just head to the Karate Club or somethi—"_

_"Don't say it!"_

_Too late._

_"We can still train your fists, don't worry!"_

**_Clank—Crash_ —** _"Oh shit!"_ **—** _**Whack! **—**** "Why me?" ** **—Quack!****  
_

_Ryohei's fist trembled against the upturned desk. His laughter emboldened another round of whooping from the male side of the class and she could hear the class rep taking up his beloved referee job again._

_Fiona locked gazes with her enemy-turned-victim Arata, who had to squeeze in tight beside her to fit under the makeshift shield of a desk. "Why did I wake to this?" he asked bewildered before he swiftly blocked another attack with the grace of a gladiator. She cowered beneath his tall frame, somewhat caught between the growing bubonic desk and his chest._

_Had to defend my womanly honor somehow, she thought to herself. After all those blows to her ego. Large men hold first place in potential threat eliminator. " **I** didn't aim the table at you." But she did dodge out of its way. No matter.  
_

_"Ha! You're good, Kurosawa!" Ryohei yelled as his fist outstretched once more with the speed of light. His feet danced across the tiles. "You should join the Boxing Club, too!"_

_Arata rubbed his droopy eyes. "And I slept so well..." The class picked up their cheers again, going 'down, down, down, down!'. "I can hear Isa-chan's voice. Why did you not involve him?"_

_Meanwhile: "See how extreme boxing is, Benny?!"_

_Fiona had to yell when the desk above her vibrated like a chime under another hit. "More defense, less questions!" She grabbed a tighter hold of her quivering braid. How to dam that over-eagerness? It's unpredictable!  
_

_"I'm trying my best here!" Arata snapped. The desk rang again and a deep dent the shape of a fist stopped inches from Arata's eyes. The sight was almost comical. If their lives weren't at stake here. He panted hard as he ducked away for another split-second. "Any plans?" The skipping feet hovered into a fighting stance._

_Suddenly the speakers crackled into existence and a calm and collected voice boomed over them: **"Student Benivieni Fiona's presence is requested in the Reception Room. I repeat: Benivieni Fiona to the Reception Room, please."**_

_It took her one heartbeat to come up with a plan._

_When the next strikes connected, she pressed all her weight into the desk—the boxer's double hits protruding and embracing both sides of her head in frightening precise perfection as he brushed her ears—and yanked the desk legs from Arata's grasp with one harsh tug—_

_—only to circle around him swiftly, table firmly strapped to her back like a turtle's shell, and dash for the door with the best and fastest footwork she could manage.)_

Well, maybe it had ticked him off just a little.

Fiona shrug her shoulders. "It's not like I know every student. Some guy, black hair, Japanese." Ryohei better buy her a month's ration of coffee beans for this one. "'Bit difficult to see his face when all I see is _table._ " She offered a look of bewilderment and crooked a finger at the wood. Hibari clicked his tongue almost inaudibly and she saw disappointment flicker through his hard eyes. A fighting opportunity missed. Too bad. Not.

Good to know she'd earned the barest begrudging respect he could muster up, though, for else she'd have bolted out of the room the moment he spotted his beloved school's bastartized furniture _in her hand_. It's a start. Still: better to sleep with the school rules right under her pillow instead of risking it with him. All about bending and walking the thin, thin line. Hibari was, after all, the Number One in her maddening game. Would be a shame to ruin their glorious relationship.

When the silence stretched on long enough to be considered safe, she rolled her stiff shoulders to ease some tension. With the confidence and convenience of someone raised in the bloody Mafia she strutted over to the couch and made herself comfortable as if she didn't belong anywhere else. "So, what do you need me for?"

His eyes lit up another shade at her carefree demeanor. A little more and she'd see his blue streaks much more clearly. That usually meant battle-time but until then she was completely safe so long as she played by the rules. Hibari Kyoya's a tough nut, one which asked for her full attention if she wanted to crack it. Step by step she'd make herself a bubble and haven but for now this would suffice.

The head prefect eventually fell back into his chair and placed his feet atop the desk, accepting for the moment. "He asked for you," he simply said.

Fiona blinked as she placed the table down. "Who?"

Hibari yawned—the amount of boys yawning around her was perturbing—and pointed to her left. She inched towards the end of the couch and curiously leaned over the edge.

Oh my.

She prodded the bloody pulp of a body strewn across the pale carpet, head weakly propped up against the armrest, breathing a wheeze with every intake a visible strain. Judging by the uniform it was a male student. From their school. "Should I know him?"

"Friendship Committee," came the curt answer.

Fiona blinked again, unsure whether to laugh or not. But eventually the smirk couldn't completely drain from her face. "We have a Friendship Committee?" she asked, bemusement clear in her voice. Hibari shrug his shoulders as if he'd been just as surprised.

Instead of trying to gain any more information from the head prefect, she chose to prod the boy slightly harder. He moaned in pain. Still alive and consultable; worked with worse states before. Things worked well between them and the school's infirmary bustled like a beehive as well.

The beaten-up boy cracked open a slowly swelling eye. "I—is that you, Fiona-san?"

"Yup." She rolled off the couch and squatted next to him. Her hand absent-mindedly brushed the strands of his blood-sticky hair from his face. He twitched at the slightest touch from her fingertips but she saw him visibly relax upon recognition of safety instead of danger.

"Did you come to help us...?" _Us._ Meaning more than one. Meaning a few bodies were missing. She glanced in Hibari's direction, saw his eyes brighten a little more at the whispered question. _You — h_ _elp_ _us_ would indicate that she _did_ know these students and _did_ come here with a purpose. Well, walking the line she goes.

The student coughed dramatically. She wondered whether he would get beaten up post hoc if the blood stained the carpet and needed to be replaced. On that regard: poor Cleaning Committee. They'd actually have to clean the room under Hibari's eagle watch. "We... we thought..." he coughed again, eyes darting between her and the dangerous aura emitting from the oaken desk.

Fiona brushed a thumb over his cheek in soothing circles. "Take it slow. It's okay."

He gulped and she could've sworn she saw manly tears well up in his eyes when they locked with hers. He nodded with renewed strength and pushed himself a little higher into a more comfortable position. A strong spirit. She offered him a smile at that. _Go on. Tell me you didn't do something completely stupid._

"We thought... we could try to befriend H-Hibari-san. To do... what nobody dared before. Why do you... but nobody else...?" He coughed again. "He's always so... stoic... and everyone needs friends... to have a sunny day. That's our motto!" He managed something that sounded much like a dying man's last laugh. "We were inspired by your actions across school... and wanted to try it in a more friendly way. We founded the club just recently!"

The smile stayed in place—

Oh god. It's the _literal_ definition of a Friendship Committee!

—She's a professional after all. "How _many_ of you wanted to befriend him?"

Another cough. A speckle of blood and saliva ended up on her knee which she casually wiped off with one end of her sleeve. "We came as a group of four... the more the merrier, we thought..."

Problem assessed: He did something completely stupid.

And since he thought that the authority of the slim number of Student Council members could compromise the authority of the whole lot of Disciplinary Committee, he called out to her for a _truce_ out of all things, and a way to get out after the plan so obviously failed. Little did he know things didn't work that way. Definitely not that easily, at least.

She offered him a gentle smile, stroked his hair into a more presentable mess. "We'll go looking for your friends right away, okay? And then I'll teach you how _not_ to approach the head prefect, aye? _Ever again._ " And while she was at that, she'd screw with their minds and ruin their wannabe-psychological approaches to situations that they should stay out of even _after_ they got their college degree in psychology.

Not that he'd ever catch a glimpse of her thoughts.

The boy blanched. "Y-Yes. We just thought..."

"Shh." She placed a finger on his lips. Her mind was already on different matters altogether. "You need a lot of rest now. I'll deal with this." Without waiting for an answer she jumped up in a start and stalked over to the windows, past a silently observing Hibari. He'd gotten somewhat used to the bravado she placed into her actions. Like a true predator he lingered before he struck a blow—a much needed trait when in regards to her. Her footwork was that amazing after all.

"You didn't dispose of them out of the window, did you? Window-dumping is always such a mess." Fiona opened one of the windows and leaned over but could not spot another body nor three. With swift fingers she shut it back close, ignoring the startled huff of the semi-corpse in the room.

Hibari raised a brow in inquiry. She shrug her shoulders and pocketed her hands in her skirt. "Ever shoved a pudding off the table?" He regarded her with a long stare. "I take it they're well and alive then."

If there is one remarkable feature in the dangerous boy's face, it had to be his eyes. He could hold direct eye-contact and make it seem like you want to dump yourself out of the windows like no other. "My men carried the rest away. This one is their leader. I thought I could have a little fun with him, but..." His look said something along the lines of _'a pity excuse of a leader'._ "He broke quickly." He shrug his shoulders indifferently.

Ah, the beauty of a man seeing other human lives as nothing more than toys. True hitman spirit. "No wonder Reborn's interested," she said with a toothy grin as she crossed the distance between her and the beaten boy once more. The look he gave her was incredulous. _That's how things work here, boy. No romanticism._ "Up we go!" she exclaimed shortly before she slung one of his arms around her shoulder and heaved him up.

She was almost halfway to the door when he interrupted her haste. "Did you think I called you over only to clean up, herbivore?" Fiona stopped and turned around to meet the boy and his casually spinning tonfa.

"I hoped I could slip out before you noticed," she answered bluntly. Finally his eyes had reached the stage of intent gleaming so brash that his presence drowned the whole room. The boy on her shoulder whimpered in fear.

One day she'd have him stand still long enough so she could check whether the bright, icy blue streaks were simply imagination or just the right angle of light hitting them to make them dance as they were prone to do. The polite smile—smug smirk—was in place when he spoke again. "The students are growing restless and rebellious. You don't have a word in this?"

"I have nothing to do with it. Nor the foundation of this club." She readjusted the boy's weight so she could move a little more freely. Her fingers reached down low behind her back while her eyes held his firmly locked in place. _Where is it?_ "I don't encourage suicide."

Spin, spin, spinning tonfa. "But he still called _your_ name in help." Because she _was_ the only force standing against the black tidal wave that was Elvis Enterprise. And the students weren't rebellious. They were as calm as ever, probably more so since the end of their school year neared with tests awaiting them. He was simply out to get her for all the things she'd done. As always.

It _could_ 've been perceived as borderline dangerous barter. He was sort of bloodthirsty-playful like that. She _could_ 've talked it out under normal circumstances, with other people, other personalities. This was not one of them.

Because Hibari did not _talk_ things out.

Her searching hand found its target and clutched it tightly, feet taking another step backwards for the right angle. Fiona flashed him a brilliant smile. "Keep the table, thank me later."

The mangled table sailed across the room the moment the last syllable left her mouth.

Her back crashed into the door and tanked it open with the momentum of the movement just in time to see the wood explode in a shower of splinters before crashing—all bits and pieces—into the window. In a slippery moment of reality her foot slid over the corridor's smooth tiles declaring freedom. She threw the student off her shoulder that he slammed into the wall before she caught herself and dashed into the general direction of _escape._

"You better name your child after me!" she yelled over her shoulder but by then steel was out to get her and was all she could see in the vast flurry of corridors to follow her chase.

_Stage 2: Attempt to dabble in politics._

 

* * *

  **Early Afternoon**

* * *

 

Fiona drew the collar of her uniform a little higher and slid around corners, sticking close to the walls. She'd outrun him long enough for school to end and the masses of students heading home gave her a natural hideout to escape the head prefect's clutches. Tonfas. Whatever. Another day to live, another tale to tell. All that was left was to get home in one piece. Get cozy on her couch, watch some movie or two and check up on her information network. Expand it for the section of 'flying school tables are not effective'.

As she exited into the school yard and the crowds began to thin out, she also briefly considered getting herself a black wig to perfect her ability to disappear within the mass and completely from sight when she felt a presence approaching her from her flank. She spun around—no tonfa, she belatedly registered—and hit palm-first.

"Good reflexes, Benny!" Ryohei boomed with laughter as he blocked her hand with his ulna, mere inches from his face.

Fiona shook her hand as she lowered it. "Don't scare me like that. I thought you were someone else."

"I wanted to test you!" He grinned broadly. "We didn't get to finish our discussion earlier." _And why is that?_ It's not like they had an actual discussion going. More like an exchange of fists than of words. "You have to come watch Boxing training today! It's extremely superior to anything you've seen!"

"You do know that you owe me for what I just had to endure?"

A fire burned in his eyes as he remembered. "I saw you and Hibari outside during class. Your fighting spirit was so intense! I broke another table just to get out and fight with you guys!" She simply chose to blink. Blink and soak in the information. It's just another number on the bill. "Kurosawa held me back and I got scolded by the teacher but it was worth it," he ended his story with an extremely sheepish grin.

So, back to damming his over-eagerness again, apparently. It proved to get out of hand way too often.

They bid farewell close to the Boxing Club's training room, after he'd unsuccessfully tried to convince her of staying. She was headed home. Maybe her beloved neighbor Kumiko would cook something today, spare her the time to do so herself. Or she'd eat out. Get to know the places around here. Oh yes, eating out sounded really good about now; let herself be treated and not lift a finger.

She was just about to round a corner when she felt another presence sneak up on her. She spun around again, ready to send a kick in Ryohei's direction this time around for him to _test_ —instead her foot met firm, firm muscle and ribs that gave way to her sudden attack instead of a hard as iron defense.

The victim stumbled back with a yelp. Fiona grimaced as he crashed into a nearby trash can and doubled over into the stinky blackness. Oh my. What did she do this time?

Whatever it was, Gokudera did it ten times worse.

"Are you alright?" she asked and cautiously approached the struggling butt. "I thought you were someone else—"

 _"Now!"_ came the hollow response from the trash can along with a wild flailing of arms.

She had but a split-second to react with surprise before the nearby bushes rustled and a bunch of guys jumped out with excitement written all over their faces and karate outfits hugging their bodies. "Do you have her?!"

"Yes, there she is!" Another replied.

That split-second later her arm got clasped firmly by a muscled fist. She followed the limb up, over the sharp shoulder, strong neck and finally stopped on the fierce face. Her mind worked just fast enough on the situation to have one name pop up in her head: _Ryohei._

The fierce face morphed into a demure look as he slid his arms upward to her shoulders and shook her awake from her state. "Fiona-chan!"

Her mind thrashed through the network of possibilities. _Ryohei. Unpredictable. Ryohei. Boxing. Ryohei. Karate._ Oh, for the love of...

"Yes...?"

The answer came in unison from half a dozen mouths: "Become our pretty manager!"

Silence.

_Ryohei, you **owe** me._

"No." Her deadpan expression apparently shell-shocked them thoroughly.

The trash can rumbled as the male finally won his struggle and escaped his prison. A banana peel lay casually entwined with his hair atop his head. Lovely. "You cannot say no, Fiona-chan!" He was by far the largest out of all. "We may have lost our chance at a flower-like manager once but you will have to join a club sooner or later! You can't be Student Council forever! Nobody can!"

To recap her situation: she was currently surrounded by seven trained karate middleschoolers that had never been on her list of potential dangers, had run for her life a mere minutes ago from a solitary predator and had challenged a beast in the beginning to defend her womanly honor. She was tired, hungry, _still_ needed a coffee and at least that massage but also had to talk to the principal about two new desks possibly made of metal and make sure the infirmary is stocked up on more medicine after their newest four _friendly_ arrivals.

Whether they noticed her eyes harden as a premonition of danger she would probably never know. "Which one of you is in my class?"

A chirpy voice raised his hand in response. "Me!" he declared solemnly. "I overheard your conversation with Sasagawa earlier. You two had a serious fight about it, too! I had to tell my fellow brothers!" He spun around with a grin. "She clearly favors the Karate Club over the brutes in Boxing."

And the moral of this story? Don't ever challenge Sasagawa "The Beast" Ryohei. It all comes 'round to bite you in the ass.

The smile she offered him was all but friendly. "You do realize you're threatening the head of Student Council?" _I will hurt you so, so much_ , she inwardly added between the lines. Reborn had nothing on them. Surely he wouldn't mind.

King Banana shook his head defiantly. "We're only offering you a proposal!" He leaned in close and her nose cried out at the smell. Too many sticky juices combining into something horrible. Her stress pile was constantly rising. "You can fight, you're pretty and you're dedicated! And because you're still part of the Student Council other girls will definitely join, too! And when you leave, they'll have to stay. So please, join our club!" He bowed his head low.

"Nope." This time the curt answer erected more commotion.

"Our master even bowed to you!"

"How can you refuse his humble request?!"

"You're truly an ogress!"

Whatever leftover mirth was still in her already unfriendly smile completely dissipated like a drop of water on desert ground. _Stalemate_ , Alessio called it. The stage of utter destruction.

Fiona cracked her knuckles. Who are you calling an ogress? "I think it's best to stem the flow of rumors before they get out of hand, don't you agree? For example by _plucking the root_ and completely _crushing_ it." Nobody could say anything about breaking rules—she acted purely out of self-defense.

Maybe he sensed the danger. Like an Admiral the Banana yelled a simple but deafening order: "Catch her!"

_"Yeah!"_

Fiona crouched down low. "I don't think so."

"You're here again." The smooth voice cut like a knife through butter. Silver glinted in the setting sun, as hard metal pressed tightly across the neck of the leading instigator. The previously so pumped-up Karate Club members froze mid-step.

The large one gulped and eyed the tonfa warily. "H-Hibari-san."

His eyes looked just as dangerous as his weapons as he spoke. "I warned you last time not to crowd in front of me." A bloodthirsty gleam passed over his gaze. Battle-ready and unyielding. "Now I will bite you to death for not listening."

The fight was over quicker than she could look. One-sided, fast, effective.

Flawless.

As she stood amidst the piles of beaten bodies she could not help but whistle. He would definitely be an enrichment to the Vongola. The sound caught his attention and he walked over the bodies towards her position, tonfas dripping with blood. Fiona raised her hands. "They ganged up on me. Self-defense, I swear."

He didn't attack nor did he speak as he slid his tonfas in swift turns over the sleeve of her uniform. Red streaks soaked the fabric. He inspected the weapons in his hands, checking for more stains to wipe off but they were clean now, ready to draw new injuries. His actions spoke so many layered messages at once; supremacy aligned with a choking intimacy of calmness, strength displayed in the rawest of manners. She'd sailed out right into the maw of a shark.

She pocketed her hands into her skirt and met his gaze head-on, giving him a crooked smile. Her heart pumped with the challenge, disregarding the offense of taking her revenge away for a better stand against a greater foe. "So that's how you regulate your troublemakers, eh?"

Hibari gave her a dismissive look, not even bothering to answer. For a moment all was good and well, a temporary haven constructed in which she could linger without sinking. Her smile broadened as she was about to test the new limits, see how large a room she could make for herself, when...

"I CAN FEEL AN EXTREME FIGHTING SPIRIT AGAIN! I WILL FIGHT YOU FOR REAL NOW! WHERE ARE YOUUUUU?!"

Oh well. 'Twas but a moment.

Fiona looked over her shoulder as a half-naked boxer stomped out of the Club's building. Then looked back to the boy in front of her. Steadied herself. "Your troublemaker, not mine."

And ran off.

_Stage 3: Walk into the sunset like a badass._

 

* * *

  **Evening**

* * *

 

Tsuna stood rooted to the spot in the doorway. "Um, Fiona-san... What are you doing here again?"

Fiona looked up from her meal and gulped down a mouthful, simultaneously accepting another hand-out from Bianchi before she answered. "Eating out."

"Oh." A pause. One. Two. Two point five. _"You're just freeloading!"_ he exclaimed incredulous.

"It's called survival of the fittest." She stuffed more rice into her mouth and fished some flesh off her plate to throw it in after.

Reborn smiled smugly across the table. "Vongola Style."

_Stage 4: Don't starve._

And then repeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or as my personal notes say: "Fight in class; fight with Hibari; fight with whatever leftovers; eat." I'm also starting to think Fiona might have very low blood pressure.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this installment and its little references—the Friendship Committee; the Karate Club's vain attempt No. 2! Also Ryohei, because he's plain awesome. As always: drop a comment if you like. I certainly like reading them.


	8. Infallible Informants

Gut feeling told her that today would turn into something bad.

 _"Fiona Benivieni..."_ the voice on the phone grumbled in Italian. _"You really wish to be on my bad side."_

Fiona generally trusted her gut feeling completely. "You're copying my line, Alessio," she retorted and rolled her eyes.

_"While you're a maniac most of the time, occasionally something good does come out of your mouth. I repeat: You don't want to be on my bad side. Can you not sense the severity of these words?"_

Even the blind could, with the way his voice rasped in badly restrained, impatient annoyance. That's what made her stomach churn and twist in grim premonition after all.

To be fair, he had a point. It would probably mean nothing less than certain impending doom on her future career if the master forger refused to work with her and severed all ties as the cherry on top. He was one of the few contacts she had left willing to work with her. He was _also_ the only one currently able to get a hold on her favorite brand of sunglasses in case one of hers broke.

Difficult.

 _Really_ difficult.

 _"Snap out of your fantasizing, this is work we're talking about,"_ he oh-so-nicely interrupted as if he's the one not getting an ounce of sleep over this matter. Not like it's 5 A.M. on the eastern side of the planet and she's supposed to be up and running in a couple hours for something as mundane as school. _**I'm** supposed to be annoyed, not you!_

_"And please stop insulting me over the silence."_

He knew her too well.

Fiona sighed and stretched her legs over the black leather couch. She should've never learned under his tutelage. It always came back to bite her in the ass. "Don't you have somebody else to send over? As far as I know half the Mafia is more than willing to jump at the chance of speaking to him."

 _"All but you, as always."_ She curled her bare toes. Goosebumps traveled down her legs. Opposite to half the Mafia she also had her reasons not to.

It was Alessio's turn to sigh in defeat, impatience swapping places with the slightest tinge of worry. _"He's on the run **again.** If he hasn't got a mission then only you can track him down long enough to get me the ranking I need. And bring him back in one piece possibly. Nono really likes him best in one piece, capito?"_

She withstood the urge to make a face. He cared for him; of course he would. But there was no denying he was out to get her back on track of doing his workload again. Just like old times. The boy had always been her responsibility. "He's going to the future Tenth."

Alessio didn't waste much time. _"Why? How can you know for sure?"_

She picked up one of the papers strewn about on the table between couch and TV. A gibberish of words and numbers was scribbled all over the page, one of its corners marked in a bright orange. "Fuuta only ever goes to those he deems safe. Someone who wouldn't betray him. Tsuna is the perfect candidate." She leaned back into the couch, paper fluttering between her fingers. "Job done."

A brief silence followed her statement. The quiet scribble of a pen on the other end of the phone told her he wrote the new piece of information down. He knew her work was spot-on, no need to double-check. But if it were only ever that easy with him... _"Leaves my ranking job still open to do,"_ he started anew. There it is.

"Like hell I will."

_"I'm expecting him—"_

"No. I'm not going near that kid." Why sound that pompous? His patterns are too easy to read: he's too smug.

_"—you can just seal the information as usual—"_

"I can say 'no' in quite a number of languages." He had a joker. Damnit. What does he have up his sleeve this time?

_"—also Chiavarone will appreciate your help, they've—"_

"Yeah, yeah, say hello to Dino for me. I'm hanging up, you know."

_"—and that new summer collection you've set your eyes on. I know you can't pass it up."_

Fiona froze with her finger hovering over the red button. "N-No!" she gasped.

 _"Thank you for the good work as always and welcome back to business, Fisher."_ He hung up with a smug tone.

The day had barely started and it was rock bottom already.

 

* * *

 

"Tsuna, it's coming!" The small boy gulped, gathering up all his courage as the soccer ball homed in on him, closer and closer...!

It hit him straight in the face.

Sighs and mutters erupted from the first-years playing on the school grounds during P.E. "He couldn't even get a pass like that," or "He's Dame-Tsuna after all." Tsuna felt his cheek flare up, not only from the nosebleed that started trickling down his lips.

"Juudaime, are you ok?!" Gokudera yelled over the chatter, half-way across the court to help him up.

Tsuna quickly scrabbled to his feet. "I... I'm fine!" _Just brush it off. Like always, haha._ "I'll go grab the ball, you guys keep playing with another one." He jogged away before anyone even answered.

After a minute of crawling through the bushes (hoping that P.E. would end sooner that way and his nose would stop hurting) he eventually found the ball by the paving and school building.

It also hovered in the air.

Tsuna blinked. "Eh?" He looked past the ball to a small boy mumbling incoherently to himself, thin scarf and bright brown hair moving softly like waves up against gravity and the leaves around him started floating as well—

Wait a moment. Things _floated?_

" ** _What—!?_** "

"Tsuna-nii's sprinting ability is ranked 86,202 out of 86,202 people. Running ability is ranked 85,900 out 86,202 people. Stamina is ranked 86,182 out of 86,202 people."

Tsuna just stared dead ahead. _What am I seeing? And who is this kid?_

The boy simply continued speaking with a glazed look to his eyes. "Tsuna-nii's ranking in overall abilities is... last place." The world stopped being stupid and his hair fell back in place as he closed his lids for a second. The soccer ball landed with a bouncing thud, rolling to a halt by his feet. He rummaged through his jacket, still talking more to himself than the involuntary onlooker. "I haven't seen him in half a year, but his rankings haven't changed at all. Well, I'll write them down anyway."

Tsuna pinched his nose. _Is there something wrong with my eyes? There's got to be—  
_

The boy pulled out a giant book from his too tiny pocket. _So big!_

And just like that the kid knelt down, flipped the book open and wrote his "rankings" down in quick strokes. Tsuna stood on his toes. He'd never get behind this mystery if he didn't start moving. It wasn't Japanese whatever he was writing down. "Um...?" The boy's head snapped up. Tsuna almost jumped out of his skin from the sudden eye contact. What was he thinking, what was he thinking—?!

The boy stormed over and took his hand, shaking it eagerly as words bubbled out of him like a waterfall. "Yay! I finally get to meet you! I thought I was being lenient since you were having P.E.!" _  
_

He stopped in his shaking briefly. "I... I've been calling you Tsuna-nii! Can I keep calling you that?" he suddenly asked in a timid fashion, big brown eyes like a doe's.

"What?" Tsuna asked back dumbfounded. He couldn't keep up. Hell, he should have given up on doing so the moment the ball started hovering! What did he think, moving to solve the mystery. He should've just inched away into the safety of reality.

Continuing on with his one-man show, the kid looked over Tsuna's shoulder—they weren't all that different in height although he looked much younger—, gasped, and ran off with the book tucked tight under his arm and a squeaky "Bye!" in his direction.

A stampede of feet suddenly made the earth tremble and three guys in pinstriped suits dashed past Tsuna, after the boy in hot pursuit. What are those people doing...?

He knelt down next to the soccer ball, waving over it. No strings. Then how...?

Eeeeeh?

 

* * *

 

"That stupid jerk," she muttered behind her handkerchief as she stalked down the corridors. She'd been thrown out of Hibari's office _again_ , another one of her hiding spots by the shelf and plant pot busted. Emergency-offering the prefect a deal to shut her trap around him for _a whole week_ also didn't work—next time the other way 'round maybe. First the offer, then tucking herself away. Her thoughts were a _mess_.

Yes, Fiona was that desperate. If there is one most-secure place at school—hell, the whole city!—it had to be Hibari's office. Nobody dared to enter out of fear hence nobody bothered and bombarded the place with some sort of stupid plea (like she regularly did). It was the perfect hiding spot for as long as that kid was around, to plan out her next course of action without constantly looking over her shoulder in worry he might appear out of thin air. The kid did that often. A little pro in it, really.

Ranking Fuuta is in town. _Already._

And that is _not_ good news at all.

The students stared as she entered class, all sunglasses, french-braided hair, handkerchief hiding half her face and predatory grumble in the back of her throat ready to lunge at any nuisance. Fiona slumped into her seat in the fourth row. As if being on the receiving end of Reborn's shenanigans wasn't enough, now she had pressure from Italy to deal with alongside the usual daily fun with the prefect. Fiona tried to convince herself she needn't do this. But the reward...

She really shouldn't have looked it up on the internet. That luscious new brand still walking the Mafia catwalk and not yet available on the markets; curved lines and dark reflections with prototype technology imbued to shield her eyes from both ultraviolet rays and conventional bullets—she _could not_ let it slip through her fingers. That stupid forger and his unbelievably convenient contacts...

 _Gonna strangle him next time we meet in person,_ she thought grimly. Her fantasy did a good job of that in the meantime. All the while her fingers twitched, eager to get a hold of those brand-new items—

"BENNY!" Her shoulders tensed and her fist jerked up only to meet an iron defense. As if she wasn't on edge enough already; one day her instinctive response would break some part of his anatomy. At least it wasn't Yamamoto or somebody similar from the first-years. That'd lead to Tsuna being nearby and she _really_ didn't want to be near him right now. Stupid kid informant—

Focus, goddamnit.

She straightened her back elegantly. "What do you need— _oof!_ "

Ryohei simply beamed while she gently stroked her left arm where he'd so leisurely punched her in greeting. "What are you doing? You look extremely funny today!"

"More like a horrible robber," Mouse said in passing before he threw his backpack onto his desk.

"Good morning to you, too," Fiona answered. She wasn't in the best of all moods to jest. "Where's Arata? You guys are usually glued together by the hips."

He sighed in defeat and gave her an exhausted (puppy-eyed) look (of course all involuntary, because he isn't cute. He claims.) "I'm just heading back to drag him up. Had to get some bandages from the infirmary first." He fished the white cloth out of his pant pocket. "He crashed into the schoolyard's tree in one of his fits."

Glory to the poor headmaster. And her constant visits to him. "The numbers are adding up again..."

Mouse shrug his shoulders as he went off, heading towards the door. "You wanted the job. Do it."

Fiona froze.

_"You don't have to do this, you know." He says it in a indifferent manner; no worry, no anger, without pretence. It's just a simple fact._

_Fiona sighs, staring at the dark ceiling. "It's the only way."_

_His chuckle reverberates through the quiet. "Part of the job description, eh?" His hand finds hers, squeezing her fingers almost desperately hard._

_She smiles despite the severity of the situation. "Exactly."_

With a heavy shove the memories disappear in the back of her mind again. It takes her another moment to calm her beating heart, breathing in before breathing out. She had to concentrate on the present but Mouse's words struck several vulnerable chords. And they echoed like the faraway chuckle back then.

She was born Mafia but she chose both her standing and her actions on her own. Her lips curled into a tiny smile. Occasionally these kids were wiser than their age let on, even if it's just accidentally so.

She liked her stress anyway. So, what to do about that job...

"Hey, Ryohei. Wanna pay off your table debts?"

 

* * *

 

"I'm home!" Tsuna called into the house as he entered and headed straight for his room.

Just as he opened the door, he was instantly greeted by Fuuta. "Welcome back, Tsuna-nii." Reborn followed with a casual "Ciaossu."

Tsuna's hand twitched. All his muscles wished was to turn around, close the door and leave the house quietly before anyone noticed. Maybe in a couple of hours that kid wouldn't be here any longer. Yeah. That'd be very relaxing...

Fuuta looked up at him with a concerned face. "What's the matter? You don't seem well."

He felt as if struck by lightning. _You're the matter! You showed up everywhere I went!_ Startling him during cleaning the classroom that the flower-pot slipped out of his hands and crashed into the floor, catching him off guard during P.E. (again), and even showing up when he got reprimanded by the teacher for said pot—it had been his favorite—the Italian visitor waited right alongside him in the corridor.

Does he have a grudge against him?!

"But I wanted to stay by your side, Tsuna-nii." His voice wavered, ever so slightly breaking. If he started crying now...! What should he do?!

"Ever since he saw you in Dying Will Mode mode," Reborn quipped in, "he's taken quite a liking to you."

"Eh? Seriously?!"

Fuuta smiled unperturbed. "Hey, Tsuna-nii! Do you need help with anything?"

The answer shot out of his frustrated soul instantly. "I don't need anything! Just don't come to school anymore!"

Big, doe-eyes stared deep into his soul with all the innocence only a child could muster. Tsuna felt his resolve weaken. _I've been favored by a really troublesome kid..._

A voice startled him out of his thoughts and back into reality. "Yo, Tsuna!" Wait, he knew that voice. Tsuna turned around and spluttered as he saw his room filled to the brim with nothing than less than _a dozen Mafiosi in black suits! HIIIEE!  
_

Somebody please spare his soul from this mess. He felt it escaping his grasp quicker than ever again.

A tall person squeezed his way through the dangerous-looking crowd; tousled blond hair contrasting with the gruff rest and a dark-green jacket against the black suits stood out, easy to spot. It didn't take him long to identify the person when it halted in front of him, a friendly smile in greeting as he casually asked: "How have you been?"

"Dino-san!" Tsuna exclaimed both surprised and happy. What was he doing here all of a sudden again?

The question was answered almost instantly as Dino looked down at Fuuta, hand by his chin while he inspected him from head to toe. "Hmm, there's no mistaking it! This is the real Ranking Fuuta, all right. It's rare to come by this _le petite prince_ no matter how hard you're trying to find him."

"Hello, Bucking Horse Dino," Fuuta merrily greeted back.

Dino's grin widened all across his face. "Nice to meet you." He elbowed Tsuna right as he said that. "It's quite a feat to have earned his trust, Tsuna." Said boy felt a proud blush color his cheeks. R-Really? It didn't seem all that difficult, looking back at the events leading up to him occupying his room. Things kind of went hand in hand.

Then the young Mafia boss did something unexpectedly. His grin dropped and brown eyes turned serious. Tsuna was reminded of Fiona, back when she'd somehow convinced Gokudera of accepting her; a flash of the same action happening to her as she'd shown a side you usually don't see. Tsuna gulped, turning his attention to the conversation.

"Let's get right down to business. There's a reason to why I came today." Dino took a quick inhale. "Fuuta. I'd like to purchase the ranking of a certain Mafia family. Lately in our area, a family called the Gospella has been passing firearms to hoodlums and bringing harm to civilians." His eyes turned hard for a moment, unforgiving. "We can't let them get away with it. I want a list of their most influential weapon dealers. Can it be done?"

 _S-So business-like! Dino-san is so cool and composed when he wants to!_ One of the Chiavarone men stepped up with a briefcase. "And of course, we have money." The man clicked the briefcase open and Tsuna's jaw dropped as the smell of freshly printed money filled the room. He'd never seen so much money in his life! It was filled to the brim with neatly bundled bills.

Fuuta regarded the money with a brief look before offering one of his childish, innocent smiles again. "That won't be necessary." Eh? "Dino ranks Number 1 out of 82,263 when it comes to Mafia members who care for the welfare of civilians. I like that kind of boss." Somewhere along the line he'd picked up his big book to read out of. "Besides, Dino-nii who is Tsuna-nii's sworn brother is also my brother, right?"

To say that Tsuna was baffled is an understatement. What is it with the sudden changes in attitude to all of these people? They display such a serious appearance so easily when they're usually only goofy and joking around. Or, you know, stalking him all over school the whole day.

Dino unfroze from his surprise first, grinning like a child himself now, back to his usual self in the blink of an eye. "I'm glad to have such a nice little bro. Thanks a lot, Fuuta, Tsuna." The youngest boy scribbled down some rankings on a loose paper before handing the copied rankings over to Dino.

"And say hello to Fiona-nee from me."

Dino blinked in confusion. "How did you...?"

Fuuta chuckled. "Fiona-nee keeps my existence a secret. Therefore only _La Pescatrice_ could choose who finds me this quickly. Even if she doesn't like me all that much, she's still watching over me."

Tsuna frowned as the Chiavarone family left his house to wrap up the business they'd come here for. He opened his mouth to ask what Fuuta had meant by that but one look at the small boy made him shut up before even uttering a sound. Fuuta absent-mindedly flipped through the pages of his book, occasionally stopping at certain rankings with a sad smile ghosting over his lips.

 

* * *

**The Following Day**

* * *

 

It was quiet. One of the reasons he enjoyed spending his time in the Reception Room or on the rooftop. The perfect view over the school grounds was another. Everything was in order and if not, he'd make sure it was. That is how things went.

Hibari frowned despite the tranquility. Things _were_ out of the ordinary. And he didn't like it one bit.

His office felt as empty as it looked; no suspicious presence tugging at the back of his mind. She was remarkably quiet and it was only due his honed instincts he eventually located her cowering in some random corner of the reception room in another hiding spot of hers. But he hadn't felt anything _particularly_ out of order for the whole school day after she'd pestered him so fiercely the day before. Instead of calming and relaxing him, it placed him on edge.

That herbivore did not go by unnoticed. Ever.

Her flashy foreign appearance cranked up whispers between the male students and her close contact to that Sawada boy and his friends usually ended up with some sort of fight one way or the other that the Disciplinary Committee members had to subdue. They'd usually bring her in for nothing more than a petty punishment. She always managed to stay within the rules no matter what she did. Truly a walking nuisance with that witty tongue of hers. Why he bothered with it instead of throwing her out, he was sometimes very uncertain.

So when she didn't show up at any given moment and the school bell rang for classes over, he was more than just suspicious. Her _behavior_ was out of the ordinary. And he didn't like it _one little bit._

Knuckles rapping on the door caught his attention. "Come in." A brief silence followed in which no wood nor presence moved from behind the door. He cocked his head to the side. That's when he noticed—

_Knock knock knock._

—it came from the _windows._

Slowly he turned around, blood already speeding up in his veins with anticipation. The sun shining into her back colored strands of that long, braided hair brighter; thin wires of fire licking up until they met the hairline of the female dangling dangerously low by his windows with a similarly dangerous and wicked grin splitting her lips apart.

They were on eye height. Green danced mischievously. "Miss me yet?" she mouthed from behind the glass, trouble palpable in its making.

His hands slid over the familiar cool of his tonfas. She laughed as she let go and fell.

He could do with a fight.

 

* * *

 

Fiona twisted her body hard, landing in a vacant classroom one store below the Reception Room. She rolled over quiet and fast, ducking behind the windowsill when the head prefect's dark shadow sailed down into the yard. Ryohei didn't have to wait for her thumbs-up, preparing for the chase within sighting the head prefect. Not a moment too early as the dark jacket followed, hard on his heel.

A chuckle escaped her lips. Concealment. That is her forte.

Well, onto the real fun then.

* * *

 

"I'm home—this is getting ridiculous," Tsuna lamely finished.

Fuuta blinked owlishly at him, grocery bag in both his hands. "What is, Tsuna-nii?"

 _Maybe the fact that you're able to communicate with outer space?!_ After Dino and his men had left he'd literally been bombarded with new visitors in their stead: Haru, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Lambo and I-pin, Bianchi even, in the most horrid fashion she could muster up. The memories of Gokudera's false ranking due to the rain had haunted him in his dreams the very same night.

But right now he succumbed to only drawing a hand over his face. "You're already settling in, too..."

His mother peeked through the door frame. "Don't pick on Fuuta! He's such a helpful young boy." She took the grocery bag from him and ruffled his hair. "Thank you."

Fuuta smiled happily. "No problem, Mama."

Again. What is it with these Italians instantaneously calling _his_ mother "mom"?! What sort of impolite country did these guys hail from?! Maybe it's the fact that all of them were part of the Mafia, no matter how hard to believe with their appearances: Dino as handsome as young men can get, Fiona meticulously picky with her looks and Fuuta unbelievably cute to the point of breaking your heart with a single glance. At least Dino had some tattoos to speak of for a rougher origin.

As if some greater entity had heard his thoughts somebody knocked repeatedly on the door; pounding at it, really. Tsuna groaned, signing his death wish tiredly as he reached for the handle. "Who is it now—" He opened the door.

A flurry of caramel hair and sunglasses ran him over.

Together they rolled over the wooden hall until they crashed into the stairs that stars danced in front of his vision. Ugh. Why always him? Couldn't he just have a normal, simple life?

His eyes trailed over the hair splattered across his face. He hadn't seen her around for a while, come to think of it. She'd usually pop out of nowhere to startle him or annoy Gokudera. Usually one went to the other anyway.

When she didn't attempt to get up, he cleared his throat. "F-Fiona-san...?" The rest of the sentence got stuck in his throat as he frantically tried not to hyperventilate upon the shadow he saw appearing in the doorway. "H-H-H-H—!" _Nonononono!_

The tonfas gleamed dangerously as he flicked them battle-ready. "Dead end, herbivore."

_Fiona-san, what did you dooooo?!_

She was too heavy for him to move! Why was she knocked unconscious at a crucial time like this! "Fiona-san, youhavetogetoutofhere—" the words just spluttered out of him. He wasn't sure whether he actually said them out of concern for her or for _himself._ She could handle Hibari while Tsuna clearly couldn't! And if he attacked Tsuna would be right in the line of fire! "Reborn!" he yelled.

The baby hitman made himself comfortable on the banister next to him. "It's your home. Defend it."

Fuuta's eyes burned with admiration as he raised his arms. "Go, Tsuna-nii!" he cheered.

_What am I supposed to do against that monster?!_

And as if things weren't dire enough, he heard the faint click of a metallic mechanism and soon after the room was swallowed in black smoke.

Everything turned pitch-black. His lungs started to burn when he tried to breathe and the smoke clawed its way down his throat with each attempt. Tsuna's mind went nuts instantly. "I can't see! I'm blind! I'm going to die! Please don't attack me— _urgh!_ " He choked on his own cough when somebody kicked him in the back.

"Stop panicking, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn chided as he landed nimbly back on the banister, collar pulled over his mouth in a makeshift protection against the thick smoke.

Tsuna's eyes started to tear up in the biting smoke. It completely incapacitated his senses. "Stop panicking?! This is an assault!" he screeched out before another cough shook his body.

"No, it's not. Leon," Reborn commanded calmly and the lizard appeared to nod before it started to glow and transform into a green fan. As soon as it sprung to life, the smoke started to dissipate, heavy wafts of air blowing it into thin strips before it completely disappeared from the hallway. Tsuna sighed in relief. His lungs stopped burning and he started to breathe normally once more.

Then he got a hold of himself. "What was that?" he asked incredulous in the baby's direction.

"Smoke grenade," was the curt answer. Tsuna deadpanned. _I know that much!_ "We've been outsmarted." Tsuna blinked perplexed. What did he...? Reborn nodded towards the floor. Tsuna's eyes widened in panic.

"Fuuta!"

The boy lay strewn across the wood, eyes closed. Upon Tsuna's yell his lids fluttered open weakly. Tsuna quickly hurried over to the younger child. "Fuuta, are you alright?!"

Fuuta coughed weakly before nodding and got up on shaky arms. "I'm fine, Tsuna-nii. I—" He jolted upright suddenly, his hands patting his sweater up and down. "My Ranking Book!"

Tsuna's heart fell. Oh no. At such a time! Who could've—?

A tiny chuckle ripped him from his thoughts. "She really works best when placed under enough pressure." Tsuna turned to looked over his shoulder and saw the baby standing next to another body. One he'd completely forgotten over the course of whatever had just happened: Fiona!

He quickly crawled over to her messed up form; the hair loose and splayed out in all directions. She didn't move upon his approaching. "Reborn! What do you mean? Will she be alright?"

The baby hitman didn't answer, simply kicked the bundle of hair harsh and merciless in its side. Tsuna's heart missed a beat—how cruel! But then he frowned. As the strands came to a halt and revealed the unmoving female's face, sunglasses dangling just on the tip of her nose, he couldn't believe the sight before his eyes.

Reborn gave them a mysterious smile as he picked up a note from the ground. " _'You should be more careful.'_ Fiona—no, The Fisher—tricked us."

What he once thought was Fiona was in reality only a wooden puppet.

His mind needed a few seconds to process the information before he reacted as quickly as the thoughts formed themselves. "Why?" He spun around. The door to the house was open but nobody stood in its frame any longer. "Where did Hibari-san go?" He turned full circle to the wooden puppet with the wig and sunglasses, the school uniform and bag. The bag was stained black. There wasn't even a need to zip it open to search for the book there—it was already open to begin with. Blackened plastic littered its insides. "Did Fiona steal Fuuta's Ranking Book?" he whispered as he came to his own conclusion. It was too surreal to be true.

"Of course not!" Fuuta exclaimed defiantly, his expression determined. "She's probably just looking up a ranking," he mumbled in addition.

"And why couldn't she ask like Dino-san did?" Something just wasn't adding up. Fiona had been behaving strangely, avoided the first-years with smooth excuses. He looked back and forth between the baby and Fuuta. "What's going on?"

Fuuta bit his lower lip. "Not everyone likes the rankings I give." Before Tsuna could retort, Reborn interrupted him.

"The book is here." With another well-placed kick he rolled the puppet on its back, revealing the enormous book beneath it. It had survived the blast without a scratch. Fuuta let out a relieved laugh before he flipped through the pages. "I guess she had to hurry when Leon started cleaning up." The lizard curled itself around the fedora in response. "Pretty good disguise, going in as Hibari."

"Wait, Fiona is Hibari?!"

Leon hit him with his tail, leaving a red streak across Tsuna's face. Tsuna winced in pain. "She _disguised_ as him, idiot."

Now he just felt stupid. "Can somebody please tell me what's going on?!"

"You still haven't grasped it, Dame-Tsuna?" Reborn placed the note in Fuuta's hands. The blonde boy observed it intently, fingers gently caressing the paper before propping up his book to show them a ripped-off page—replaced by a sealed letter where the page once had been. The wax seal was of royal blue color, deep and rich, an intricate pattern following its edges. But clearly visible, in the middle of the seal, a small boat with a fish arching over it, taking over the place of the boat's sails.

Reborn gave the signet a long stare. "Mafia records say she's a psychological mastermind. Nobody manages to lie in her presence because she can tell truth and lie apart simply from the way you move." Tsuna gulped. That sounds like a scary ability to have. Or rather: to encounter. "Fiona is among the best informants in the business if you want fast, reliable information—but I've yet to meet someone who can beat her when it comes to _concealing_ information."

"Davy Jones' Locker," Tsuna stretched the words out timidly, remembering the strange conversation she and Gokudera had once. Reborn nodded.

"Yes. She has a knack for naming things related to the sea. Sending something to Davy Jones' Locker is the best and most expensive service in the Mafia you can get if you want information to disappear from the surface of the earth _forever_."

Fuuta chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "That's why it's not so easy to meet me. My rankings are a well-kept secret." Tsuna blinked, understanding trickling in. That's why he knew Dino-san had gotten his information from her. And that's how she managed to completely fool them with little more than a wooden puppet. She was _good_ at fooling people.

Reborn pointed back to the sealed letter. "A bit sloppy but it did it's job to get the message across. After two years, The Fisher is officially reinstated now."

To say that all this information didn't go way over his head was an understatement. It felt a little clearer but at the same time he felt like there was so much more left in the dark. He decided he'd have to wait and find out because asking Reborn was like talking to a brick wall.

Meanwhile Fuuta grinned that his lips threatened to rip his face in two. " _La Pescatrice_. She was here, after all this time." His eyes brimmed with life and although Tsuna didn't quite grasp it yet, he was glad to see him smiling instead of giving in to sadness. It was contagious. "Fiona-nee was actually here!" he laughed. What a weird people. Why would someone go through so much trouble for such a small feat? Why not talk directly to him?

Wait. What ever happened to the real Hibari then?

 

* * *

 

"Dead end, herbivore."

Her hair swayed left and right as she looked up and down the wall blocking her escape. A scenario happening more often than he could count, each time a little quicker, the faster he caught up to her. And each time her fight to escape his clutch were drawn out longer, one more blow she had to aim at him before she slipped away like the sly fox she could be. It had been like this since the day and partial start of a fight on the rooftops.

She didn't contest his superiority—one of the rare wise decisions she chose to uphold. But he wasn't one to say no to a free fight. Until she started to bore him. Then he'd bite her to death and be done with it.

She turned her head only slightly towards him, sunglasses catching the sun off of one corner, glinting. The ochre coat rustled with the movement. He cocked his head to the side, mustering her rigid form from head to toe. Something was off, now that she stood still for the first time. Her lips were sealed shut. "Not going to talk your way out of—"

She was quick to move. He was quicker.

He'd anticipated her dash, using the wall as leverage to propel her body past his. But instead of slipping by once more, she crashed into his waiting outstretched arm, choking as her lungs gave in under the sudden pressure. He took the opening as she stumbled, closing in on his target with full force.

Hibari froze mid-step. The sunglasses had managed to slip off her nose.

Gray eyes. Those were _gray_ eyes looking back up at him. "You..." he snarled.

Beneath the coat, bandaged arms slowly raised up in defense, tugging at the blond hair until it gave way to more gray, toothy grin beaming at him from the distinctively _male_ face. "I was found out to the extreme!"

 

* * *

**Evening**

* * *

 

Dark creamy foam clung the spoon as it made its lazy circles around the porcelain cup. The smell of coffee beans permeated the air. Fiona leaned back and enjoyed the moment of bliss the soothing smell brought to her nostrils.

"Your coffees are getting stronger with every time I see you," a male voice disrupted the silence. She heard the chair scrape over the ground as he moved to sit. His knees brushed hers beneath the table.

Fiona smiled but didn't move from her position. "It's still an Espresso. I haven't reached a regular Ristretto intake yet." One eyelid fluttered open and she nodded towards her counterpart's drink. " _Cappuccino con panna, come al solito._ "

He placed the cup to his lips and took a sip, sighing in content. His tongue darted out to lick up some of the remaining cream. "Not bad. Much appreciated after the long flight. You really couldn't send it over?"

"A taste of home at least, you ungrateful bastard. I thought you said you were in a hurry."

He gave her shin a slight nudge with his shoe. "Now you're just ruining the lovely atmosphere."

She withdrew from her comfortable position and sat up, back straight. Then she leaned forward and propped her head up on a palm. "We don't do lovely. Especially the two of us."

Alessio pursed his lips, one finger tapping away at the porcelain as he held her gaze. "True. Last time we went to a café, we sent it into financial ruin afterward."

Fiona laughed full-on. "It's good to see you. Talking to a voice is only half as fun. Even if you do sound as sexy as always." His dark hair looked freshly cut but he kept true to his close-cropped hairstyle. _Only way to tame my curls,_ he'd once said. _Cut them all off._

His cup found hers in a quick toast. "Glad to see my charming presence is still being cherished." Still, she spotted a streak of gray by his temples that she couldn't remember being there before. Despite that tiny blemish, his looks were still prim and proper, neatly shaved and looking as comfortable and presentable in his black suit and tie as always. He seized her form up and down just as much. "Don't look half bad yourself."

"I have a sense of foreboding when you talk like that." Probably best to take a large sip as long as she still could.

Brown eyes hardened almost instantly. She cringed inwardly. There we go. "The amount of paperwork I had to go through after you disappeared was _nightmarish_. Couldn't you just die instead of going into stand-by, near-exiled? Also the number of attacks on me were ridiculous. As were the leaks. I know you had your fingers in that pie for sure."

That's her Alessio, all right. Quick-thinking, ever working and a heartlessly scrutinizing forger. With any luck he wouldn't bring up—

"Don't think I'll just forget about the Philippine pirate ship incident. I keep especially detailed count on that."

Damnit. He knew her too well.

She gave him her best attempt at an uncaring smile. "Let's just get down to business, aye?" With one fluent move she pulled an envelope from her blazer and slid it over the table; her signet pressed into the wax to seal it close. "Return the original to him when you find the time. I was in a hurry to acquire it."

"Not your smoothest run, hm?" Alessio briefly inspected the seal before tucking it away behind the safety of his own suit. "Nevertheless, Reborn was impressed on how you dodged little Fuuta."

"That baby is surprisingly quick to report," she muttered into her espresso. "Vongola got the news, too?"

He nodded. "It wasn't difficult to guess whom you were working for in this case. We're inseperatable. I'm already being spammed with questions. But it definitely left its ripples, your reinstatement." He gave her a meaningful look and she nodded. They were almost there, at that place from two years ago.

He didn't know the full extent, how important it was to her. One day he'd find out. Fiona lowered her eyes to stare at her blurry, coffee-darkened reflection.

She might even live to be scolded for it.

"Still—disguising as some dangerous delinquent or something? Apparently you fooled them well enough."

A warm chuckle escaped her throat. Focus. "I can act out that delinquent's antics in my sleep by now. I just had to distract him long enough to get a hold of his uniform since my resources were limited." Hibari kept at least one spare uniform in the Reception Room, most of the times two full sets. Considering the dirty line of work he often frequented, a wise thing to do indeed. Ryohei would survive the encounter, she was sure of that. And damn did he look good in make-up. She'd vote him for drag queen anytime. "A delayed-action smoke grenade did the rest."

"Which you conveniently keep lying around."

"You know how much I love my drama assets."

Alessio shook his head. "All that just to avoid meeting him in person?" Her old friend and tutor left it at that, seeing as he couldn't get her to talk on the topic for years. Instead he pulled out a slim package and held it out to her. "Well, you did the job. Don't drool too much. They're very delicate."

Her fingers carefully grasped the item. With a similar care she slid it into her bag, nestling it neatly and safe beneath the red band of the head prefect's jacket. Looking good. "Only one pair?" she asked, greedily licking her lips.

"Who's the ungrateful brat now?"

 

.

.

.

.

* * *

**Extended Cut**

* * *

 

It was the middle of the night when she snuck into the Reception Room, courtesy to owning all the school's keys. The stillness of the room and the way the moonlight shone inside was as eerie as it was comforting—it was just her and her thoughts, bare to explore under nobody's care but hers. A tiny chuckle escaped her lips. Hard to believe she'd done the switch with the boxer just a few hours ago.

_"Fiona-nee's ability to read behavioral patterns is rank 1 among 86,202 in the Mafia."_

_A whooping whistle. "Shit, that's terrifying."_

_"She's the worst with numbers among the 196 informants, though."_

_"Just giving Johnny some slack," she answers cheeky in turn._

_A carefree laugh._

Her bag with the uniform she'd wanted to return lay forgotten on the couch as she approached the windows. The dark night sky was dotted with white spots; tiny, glowing stars and the half-moon peeking past a solitary cloud passing by.

_She ranks 1479 among 3,989 unarmed short-range fighters._

_Brown eyes lock with green. "Now you just suck. I'm losing respect here."_

_"Shut up!"_

_Wonder where I'm ranked in now,_ she silently mused. He'd been a little younger back then but still—Fuuta's ability had always been astounding. Nobody could resist curiosity's pull to ask him a question or two. Fiona had practically riddled him with holes. You do that when you're fifteen and in the Mafia. And he'd grinned and laughed, tiny chest swelling with pride and joy. Always clutching to _his_ legs—

The memories burst through the surface, staccato snippets of that one night before life went to hell, before people died around her, under her orders, her _plan._

_"Don't be ridiculous!"_

_"Retreat! The ceiling is giving in—"_

_"This is not what glory is meant to be like, Fisher."_

Fiona clenched her eyes shut, shushing her fluttering heart. It was never supposed to go that way.

 _In the twilight of the night the quiet bore a close resemblance to peace._ _"You don't have to do this, you know." He says it in a indifferent manner; no worry, no anger, without pretence. It's just a simple fact stated in a troublesome time.  
_

_Fiona sighs, staring at the dark ceiling, dust dancing in the pale light of the moon. Peace. "It's the only way."_

Alessio would never know the true extent of her reasons as to why she avoided the little prince. It's all too closely entwined for her to be able to tell. She couldn't, yet. Thus she shoved away the uneccessary thoughts banging at their cages, begging to be released. It's easy to shut off the memories, to cloak them over with peace and quiet; second nature to someone who takes pride in concealing her every expression even if it meant damnation.

Simply shove the heavy treasure chest back into the sea, drowning it on the bottom that only myths managed to guard its secrets. But still, the difficult part of it was to never quite forget what exactly she'd shoved away for later. She'd nailed that down some time ago.

 _He_ 'd been with her when they'd asked Fuuta that stupid question. _He_ 'd been the only one to ever know.

_It's supposed to be a joke. Only a light-hearted question when they'd run out of others. She shakes her head but there's a shiver running down her spine. She shouldn't believe the kid but something in her gut tells her to keep her distance, to run away. There's something wrong with knowing._

_She shouldn't._

_She musn't.  
_

_"You know too much."_

**_Peng._ **

Fiona left no trace of her presence as she exited the room again. Come morning, nobody would notice anything amiss. The knowledge of her moon-lit existence was sent to Davy Jones' Locker once more, along with a set of memories long untouched.

"Focus," she muttered to herself and her heartrate slowed, unsuspecting in its own traitorous behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dark foreshadowing before we kick off the Kokuyo Arc. On a more fun note: Fuuta is one hell of a fun character to write. You only notice how much he talks when you write him in action. He's truly a one-man show. Apparently all informants have a knack for that sorta thing.
> 
> Translations:
> 
>  _La Pescatrice_ — (The) Fisher; female variant of the title. ( _Il Pescatore_ would be male)
> 
>  _Cappuccino con panna_ — Cappuccino with whipped cream (instead of frothed milk)


	9. Raid

The impact was harsh and painful, skin tearing and oozing blood where he slid over the concrete. For a moment he lost all sense of direction, stars and pain sparking in turns as he spit out blood. His jaw cracked, felt loose. Dislocated.

"Well, well, well, the prefects aren't that scary after all!"

Only the strongest could become prefects and usually he took pride in the fact that he'd managed to get into their ranks. But right now fear crept up on him, body trembling and shivering under the bristling aura of careless _murder_ these people radiated. "Damn you..." The prefect managed to glance over his shoulder. It was the black of the night but if he could only stop the spinning of his head he might be able to get a look at them. Hibari needed to know. He fought down the fear for a brief moment longer. "Who are you...?"

The same voice hummed, young, mocking. "We're boys from the next town, here for our away game or something?" Was this some sort of sick joke?

"Quit fooling around. Finish it quickly, Ken," another boy spoke. And as his vision cleared and the clouds lifted to let the moon light the street, he wished he'd never asked. Had never went on patrol that night. The pincers gleamed in the translucent light like a tool pulled out of hell and the fear struck down on him heavy and suffocating.

The animal leaned in close, mad grin on his scarred face. "How many for this guy?" The pincers click, clacked, open and close. _No._ Please, god, _no!_ "Lemme take a little looksee!"

He felt tears prickle hot at his eyes. "Wha-What are you going to do?!" But he knew and he clawed at the pavement to get away but his arm must've been broken, it gave in instantly—

"Don't blame me for this~" Merciless hands caught ahold of his hair, tearing at the roots as he peeled him off the streets. And the other just stared as the animal brought the pincers closer, murderous intent thickening despite the singsong to his voice. "It's an order from the top~" But he clearly enjoyed it, he clearly did!

"Wait! Don't—!"

And then all he could do was scream.

 

* * *

 

Fiona's eyes were hard as she knelt down beside the boy. "This marks the seventh." She flicked the mobile open and close nervously. Another call for the ambulance.

_How had it come to this?_

Kusakabe shook his head, own phone resting by his ear as he stayed in contact with the other search parties. "Make it eight. They just found another one by the lake in the park." Then he closed it shut, watching the Italian as she gently turned the beaten Disciplinary Committee prefect's head towards her. The blood clung to his face from laying in his own pool for too long. His breathing was barely above a whistling wheeze.

She'd put up her hair some hours ago, when it was still dark and not dawning pink and orange on the horizon like it was right now. Looks were a secondary priority even to her in scenarios like these. Searching eyes scanned the extent of the wounds. Most of the blood stemmed from the mouth. Again. _They're following a pattern; a system,_ she thought.

"I'm gonna call the ambulance in a sec but I have to check on something first, okay?" The boy couldn't speak, face all swollen up, but he managed to nod, a tiny gleam to his eyes from beneath the swollen lids. He wasn't petrified despite knowing what she wanted. He knew what it entailed. Involuntarily, Fiona smiled. "You're tough, big guy."

Then she pried open his mouth.

His body jerked upwards and he would've probably clammed down on her fingers if he had any control left over his jaw. Dislocated, probably crushed at at least one of the joints. _Irregularities: three out of eight. Power display, not a pattern._ Dislocated jaws were an unpredictable element added to the sudden assault that she could not quite decipher. A display of strength, a lack of control.

_**How** had it come to this?_

It had been a normal enough night a few hours ago. She'd eaten out till the late hours, thinking that a full stomach would help in resting for a full night. She tried to get her insomniac tendencies back on track but it never quite worked out. Not that she would be able to get a shut-eye anymore, the way that guttural scream tore through the silence of the night on her way home. Not even the birds and crickets had dared to sing their song afterward, the whimpering echo carrying genuine pain and fear over, the sort only true torture could offer. She remembered running as fast as she could with her heart pumping hard in her ears.

Alone and bleeding, both body and walls around him splotched with red, she'd inadvertently found the first victim of the night.

Fiona stood up and brushed her fingers off on her jeans. A chilly morning breeze forced goosebumps onto her bare arms but the thin t-shirt would have to do for another hour. She quickly dialed the ambulance over, whose sirens could be heard faintly in the far distance. Probably already picking up the other body by the lake.

"21," she said evenly. Kusakabe cursed.

It had been one of the prefects she'd found in that alley alone, so badly, inhumanly hurt. There was no one else to call but Hibari in a situation like that; one of his men attacked, clearly a planned assault as she inspected the victim closer in the brief time it took the head prefect to arrive on the scene. He'd brought his second-in-command with him, dropped him off with succinct orders to secure the city's parameters, before dashing off to god-knows-where in his private search for the culprits.

Kusakabe may or may not have liked it but they'd been stuck together all night since, the first search party to set out. Because she sure as hell wasn't going to leave this be. Something of this magnitude she couldn't shake off as though it never happened. They'd even stopped bickering after the severity of it all struck fully because the ambulance found a disturbing feature to look out for: extracted teeth.

That had doubled their efforts to comb through the city's streets.

 _Lunatics,_ she thought as she watched the boy wend in his own blood. In the distance the sirens roared. Yazaki, she remembered. His name's Yazaki. She'd looked it up when she'd gone through the vast folders of the Disciplinary Commitee once. She shivered and it was not because of the cold.

_Why had she let it come to this?_

Kusakabe's sigh snapped her back to reality. "You think there's more?" Rapt in thoughts, he rolled the culm left and right between his lips. The usually prideful regent hairstyle hung low in exhaustion, long night taking its toll on its magnificence.

For a moment Fiona simply stood there in the middle of the street and watched the sun ascend over the rooftops, true to the name of the Land of the Rising Sun. Then she turned her back on the celestial body. Focus.

People tick in similar fashions everywhere around the globe; always leaving patterns to unfurl. "I don't think they'll attack after dawn. Too risky. They've done their part in grabbing attention." She scrunched up her eyes. _For now._

"If they think they can get away with this..." He crossed his arms, bulging out muscles beneath the leather jacket in a silent threat. Then he looked her over. "I appreciate the work you've done so far but we're taking over now. Things are going to get real ugly." Her inner translator sprung to life. _'You surprised me with your actions but don't take it too far. This is no place for a girl like you.'_

Fiona glanced up at him. "Is that worry I hear?"

"We aren't friends." She snorted. Prideful men are littered all over the goddamn place.

She turned around to face him head-on to give him yet another taste of her opinion. It was the topic of the night apparently, her involvement. "I know. Doesn't change the fact I'm already knee-deep into this investigation."

He straightened his back and did the same, towering over her with ease. "This is clearly the Disciplinary Committee's branch of expertise."

She took a step forward. "To take a leaf out of Kyoya's book: They're Namimori students and _I'm_ head of Student Council. This concerns me just as much as you."

They could easily throw a punch at each other, that close stood they. "It's for the best of all students—"

"—to let _me_ on this case because I'm going to find your culprits in 24 hours straight. Names, past, hiding place, clothing size and favorite color all inclusive." Her smile returned, if thin and brittle, reality train back on track. This is what she's here for. This is her job description. "We've been through this, dear vice president, and we're running in circles. Let. Me. In. On. It."

He groaned. "The Disciplinary Committee does _not_ need any help from outsiders."

Oh dear headache that is forming right now. Please guide this man. "I helped you through the night despite your refusal. I say we work together splendidly." She flicked her phone open and scrolled through her contact list. "Kyoya isn't going to find anything the way he charged off anyway," she added as an afterthought.

"Is that so?" The cold menace in his voice was enough to identify the shadow stepping out of the alleyway. Angry—fuming, really—proud and vengeful. A clashing difference to how she encountered him at school. That almost seemed a faraway memory now. The raid had come sudden and struck harder. _Keep yourself together, woman!_ "Maybe you're simply in cahoots together."

The ambulance reared to a halt on the far end of the street. The back doors jolted open as emergency doctors jogged towards the scene of crime. She watched them load the prefect up on a stretcher. The boy's still alive and he'd manage. She'd come to Japan for a reason. As an informant it was her job to prevent these things. And if she did not manage that _—_ quench the fire before it managed to spread too far.

Fiona spared Hibari but a glance as she stalked off, dialing up a number on her phone. "They've declared war—and I'm your best player."

 

* * *

**Monday Morning**

* * *

 

"Is there something wrong at Nami Jr. High?"

Tsuna looked up in confusion, pulling his head out of the fridge. "Huh?"

His mom apparently spoke with Reborn and not her son. Fine by him. He continued raiding the fridge. "There was another assault case, wasn't there?" A what? At his school?

Reborn slurped some of his coffee before clarifying the situation, locking on directly with Tsuna's doe-eyed expression. "Last weekend, eight prefects from Namimori Jr. High were found with serious injuries. The victims, for some reason, had their teeth extracted. There were even some who had all of them extracted."

Tsuna almost chocked on his orange juice. "For real?!" Then he squinted his eyes in thought. "Wh-Why would anyone do something like that?" Attacking the prefects out of all possible students, too. Hibari definitely wasn't going to be happy. Whoever did this had a death wish if he so openly provoked the head prefect.

"Hey, Tsuna. Maybe you should go learn some hand-to-hand fighting skills for self-defense?" Mom offered cortously.

"What? Why do _I_ have to do something like that?!"

She flared her nostrils as she became agitated. "Because I'm worried! You should learn to protect yourself!"

"But this has nothing to with me! It's a fight between gangsters!" He crossed his arms defiantly. "I mean, the victims have all been prefects only, right?"

 

* * *

 

The Hibari Kyoya currently patrolling the streets of Namimori was not his usual self.

He was much, much worse.

The suddenness of the attacks coupled with the cowardice of their enemies sent his blood boiling. Each passing minute only helped to add on his annoyance; the shameless way somebody tried to undermine his authority and steal it away from his grasp.

He wouldn't let such a rebellious act pass.

His impatience grew with every corner he rounded. He inspected a bent and dent piece of fence. Another place an attack must've taken place at. He stood still for a moment longer, expression one of guarded fury. If these attackers had left any trail to follow, he would've instantly initiated the chase—

A loud clunk on the floor caught his attention. He spun around only to spot a shrieking cat jolt away from an upturned wastebin and flee into the bushes. Trying to escape its responsibilities, he thought dryly. He couldn't wait to get his hands on the perpetrators for trying to do the same.

His phone rang. Flipping open the device, he was greeted by the hectic voice of his vice president. "What is it?"

_"I told her not to get involved but she's doing it anyway."_

Hibari rose a brow, hold on the phone shifting, clenching. That woman was nosy. "Where is she?"

 _"I'm going over to her apartment."_ Hibari looked about his surroundings, spotting the medium-sized complex in the distance. He wasn't too far away. _"She came to school telling our men she was working under your orders."_ Nosy didn't even describe the audacity. _"Then she took **everything** from the school's archives back home. No idea why she even needs the stuff."_

That is considered theft. He glared at the building. She was finally violating the rules. "Wait there. I want to deal with her personally." If he could release even a part of his pent-up energy on her it would come as a welcome distraction. And perhaps he had been more than right when he'd suspected her of working together with the enemy.

The walk to the apartment complex had passed quicker than he could take note of, fueled by anger and the thirst to do _something_. Kusakabe waited for him in front of the road sign and when he passed the vice-president with the barest nod, he followed him inside wordlessly, culm rolling between his lips in thought.

They hurried the four floors to her apartment up, white-walled staircases molding into one another, until they reached the door to Benivieni Fiona's apartment.

Kusakabe threw him a glance as he rang the door bell reading the foreign surname. Hibari wouldn't have minded kicking in the door but he needn't any attraction. She would bolt the moment she saw wood splinter. The constant chatter behind the door stopped momentarily, then broke out once more in full swing with a series of curses. Hibari readied his tonfas, jaw clenched in anticipation.

The Italian didn't even grace them with a look when she ripped open the door and ushered them inside. _"Shall I hang up then? I'm in dire need of sleep."_

The blonde turned her back on them, braided hair bouncing left and right. "If I'm not sleeping, you aren't either. Deal with it." When they didn't immediately follow, she threw an exasperated look over her shoulder. "Are you coming in or not? This place is sealed off to the public otherwise."

This reaction was not what he'd expected. "You stole—"

"Nothing," she finished for him. Both his brows shot up at the look in her eyes that differed greatly from the norm; not playful or flighty, but blunt and clear, calculating as it passed over his expression. It was an expression he rarely encountered in herbivores. "I'm merely doing my job."

 _"Which involves stealing things most of the times, I might add,"_ the male voice on speakers said, speaking a fluent, accent-free Japanese. _"Metaphorically speaking, of course."_

Her hand shot out to the phone as if it were a real person. "Not helping, Alessio."

 _"Never planned to."_ Pause. _"And you can shove that middlefinger up someplace else."_

Kusakabe threw him another glance, this time filled with confusion as well as curiosity. Hibari did not acknowledge it as he stepped inside the foreigner's apartment.

Its insides looked as though a bomb had detonated in the middle of the room. Papers and folders have taken every free spot in the room for themselves, hiding both furniture and half of the sun in her vain attempt to light the room past stacking, messy piles. His gaze returned full circle to linger on her, who had just swept off some papers from the barstools in the kitchenette.

She caught his stare. "It's not always like this. Just when I'm working, I swear."

The male on the speakers snorted.

Fiona's head snapped around. "Shut up and get something done," she barked.

Rustling filled the room as the bodyless voice shifted positions on their chair. _"And you say **I'm** the workaholic. When you're into it you can get pretty sadistic."_

"Shut up and get something done, _please._ "

 _"There's still room for improvement but I'll accept the apology for now."_ Pause. _"You want me to get specific on where to shove up your insults this time around?"_

She grumbled. "You know me too well." The male hummed happily.

The banter did nothing to soothe the growing headache and Hibari's annoyance. First the assault, now he had to deal with _this_. Kusakabe crossed his arms as he leaned against a bar stool for support. "Who is that?" he nodded towards the phone lying on the black couch.

"A nosy friend of mine."

 _"What goes around, comes around. You want to pay back triple interest for that pirate ship incident instead?"_ One of his brows shot up involuntarily. A pirate ship? The male continued before his mind fully settled on the image. _"Transfer is complete. I know Eduardo's on the field for this but which course of action would you prefer right now? Going classic or all-out?"_

There was something off, different about the herbivore as she considered, foreign green eyes vivid yet cool. Focused. "Eduardo?" She placed a hand to her chin. "Interesting. He's short-range reconnaissance normally."

And suddenly he was reminded of a cold winter day out on the frozen lake, when he'd first met her. The moment she took of her shades she'd worn the same knowing look as she did right now. He'd remember that look forever: the only reason as to why he allowed her, a grown adult, to stay in his school.

He beckoned for Kusakabe to sit and moved to the outermost barstool himself.

She was acquainted with the baby. And somehow she'd managed to get into the Student Council—and keep her position to this day. He watched her every move intently. The best player, she'd said. If she actually proved useful, they could consider new arrangements between them. Anything less and he would have to bite her to death for her impropriety.

Eyes steady and voice firm, she contrasted starkly to her usual self. "Take MASK. I want the whole network on it. First strings on the ready, Vongola will be right on our tails from the get-go. We need superb coordination to make sure nobody catches our trails."

The sound of fingers racing across a keyboard. _"Going for the infamy instead, eh? People will be **overjoyed** to hear from him."_ Irony dripped off the phone as the clattering of keys continued. _"Some of your contacts are currently abroad—"_

Her hands gesticulated on their own to stress her words. "If they can't manage the workload, threaten to cut them off and move the next in line up. I want full capacity. They have one hour to prepare."

The male whistled. _"Good to have you back and on **my** side. I'll make sure orders are clear. And Fiona?_ "

She'd already picked up the phone. "Hm?"

 _"Stay safe. I don't like the sound of this, especially coupled with the recent developments over here."_ He cleared his throat. _"I'll call back later."_

Fiona nodded. "Will do." She hung up and spun around to face the boys. "Any questions? Death threats? I could do with some coffee, too."

This was no simple attack. And she was no simple herbivore, her actions belied that. Hibari spoke up and he made sure she got the meaning behind his words in perfect clarity. "How long will this take?"

She didn't disappoint. Her gaze met his head-on. Focused, fearless. It sent his blood boiling in different ways; itching for a fight to find the limits it took to break her. But not now. He had to take precautions for his school first, take down the leader behind this mischief second. Then perhaps...

"A couple hours."

He left the room without looking back.

 

* * *

 

Tsuna groaned in annoyance as he fanned out the different fighting club prospects. "I already said this has nothing to do with me!" He counted them out. Half a dozen. "Where did mom get all these anyway?" She couldn't possibly be stashing them away for the right moment. Then again... "You were hired from a flyer, too, weren't you?" he asked the baby hitman strutting next to him on the brick wall.

Said baby ignored his musing. "If Fuuta were here, he could come up with a ranking list of the best fighting styles to suit Tsuna."

"I don't need that kind of list!" he exclaimed incredulous.

Reborn ignored him _again._ "Or maybe it would be a good idea to join Ryohei's Boxing Club."

The very thought sent a shiver down his spine. "Don't... don't joke around! His Spartan ways will kill me." As he rounded the corner to school, he noticed something off. There was an absurd amount of Disciplinary Committee prefects surrounding the entrance and streets leading up to the school. He looked left and right and he spotted them _everywhere_.

"Considering that there've been so many cases," Reborn stated casually in his squeaky voice, "they're getting jittery, too."

Just thinking about it got _him_ jittery. _If you ask me..._ "This really is a gang fight or something..."

"You're wrong." Tsuna almost sky-rocketed into the bushes from fright.

"H-Hibari-san!" As if the near-death encounter at his own house wasn't enough to last him a lifetime of the head prefect! Even if it only had been Fiona in disguise, the nightmares following him for days after were real enough. "I-I was just on my way to school..."

"Ciaossu!" Don't start a conversation with him!

Hibari regarded Reborn with a longer stare than usual before speaking up again. Tsuna pleaded for the ground to swallow him whole. "This is a mischief with no meaning." Then he locked gazes with Tsuna, eyes slanting dangerously. He couldn't help stepping back a little. "But of course, these sparks that have ignited must be severed from their origin."

No amount of flowery wording could take the emphasis out of _'severed'_ the way he said it with a deep loathing. _Hibari-san is really scary...!_

"And how do you plan on going about that?" Reborn asked, continuing to draw Tsuna into a smalltalk he really wasn't keen on eavesdropping.

"The Disciplinary Committee has its ways of making people spill their secrets. We're already working on the culprit's identity." He knew there was a reason he did not want to get involved with these kind of people. Hibari could be even scarier than the Mafia at times, although just barely.

A ringtone suddenly disrupted the silence. Tsuna couldn't believe his ears when he heard the school anthem played. Or eyes in that matter when he spotted the owner of the ringtone standing right in front of him. _Hibari-san has our school anthem as ringtone?!_ Better run along, quickly out of sight and hopefully out of mind—

"He's an acquaintance of yours, isn't he? Sasagawa Ryohei." Tsuna turned to meet the head prefect's eyes, stomach suddenly filled with dread. Kyoko-chan's big brother couldn't possibly...?

"He was attacked."

 

* * *

 

The pen raced across the paper, barely intelligible notes scribbled all over the once free space. The laptop's fan and occasional hitch offered the only company to the sole Informant sitting in her messed-up apartment.

 _They have a system._ The names and profiles of all the victims were ordered on a cleared space on the floor, going from the order of teeth extracted. A few calls to the ambulance had given her the certainty on the numbers. They were counting down _something.  
_

She sat in front of the profiles unmoving. It had taken her most of the night to create them, language barriers hindering her progress every once in a while. MASK would do his job of locating the source of the problem, a fake identity she'd used to rise in the information broker business during her absence from the Mafia. The number of Underworld connections the fake information broker maintained was dangerously high, though. People that wished to see Vongola destroyed. One wrong move and the sweet balance could be busted.

 _He'll do fine,_ she calmed herself. Alessio had to lead the conversations in her stead for now, direct MASK's network in the right directions. As long as he played low passes, the probability of being detected as a spy was low. And there were certain coincidences not quite adding up. _'The recent developments over here,'_ Alessio had said. He was right. Her own return had stirred up voices but she had half a stomach ache that somebody was getting something out of the chaos of regular gossip and tittle-tattle, marriages, conspiracies and jailbreaks. More so than usual. She couldn't concentrate on the behinds yet, though; there was a different puzzle to crack first.

Where did they base the countdown off from?

Eight prefects were attacked during the weekend. She'd been informed of another three attacks occurring in the recent hours on _non_ -prefects. More reports to follow, she was certain. The trademarks connecting the assaults were easy to discern: teeth extraction, no matter where you looked. It was there and clear for all to see. The question was not, as Hibari would have liked, _who_ these attackers were. That could be answered along the way. It was _what_ they were aiming for—or whom.

A Mafia attack was out of the question. Too many non-members attacked. They would've headed straight for the Tenth, whose existence was a common tradeable knowledge by now, unguarded as it is. Possibly going for his friends or families, too. Either of these options hadn't proven viable.

These people weren't in the Mafia. She had to come up with something different.

She rearranged the order. Eight prefects. 24 to 16 teeth. Two second-years and a third-year so far. Down to thirteen. A certain Mochida had been the last one assaulted. She looked up the 14th. The schools folders had all been moved to her apartment by now. She needed the information at hand and was glad Hibari had given in so easily.

This is her kind of work. He could hog all the glory on the frontlines later.

Fiona frowned. The 14th was the head of the Karate Club that had once bothered her. She flicked open Mochida's file. Kendo club. Next. Victim No. 15 had no interesting file but upon looking up his name on the internet she came up with more than one olympic entry. An athlete.

They wanted to inflict uncertainty by killing the shepherds, the leaders of the school; to spread doubts, fear. _Reverse pattern._ Maybe instead to show off their strength, superiority and power—

Shit.

Her phone rang and she quickly picked up. "Fiona speaking."

 _"Five more people were delivered to the hospital right now,"_ Kusakabe paused, her impromptu scout on the fields keeping her informed of recent developments. _"None of them are prefects."_

Her heart raced. Hibari was busy watching the school parameters as he waited for an answer still. Two hours she'd said. Time was ticking. "Anyone you recognize? Think hard." She only needed one more confirmation.

Footsteps. _"Wait a second."_ Strength. They were counting down a strength list, planning to defeat them all. Were they students of Namimori Jr. High? No, that wouldn't make sense. They'd have been too easy to recognize then. Nobody awake had recognized the attackers so far. _"That's Mamura, right? Yeah. Yeah, definitely Mamura, one of our third-years."_

"Does this Mamura play some kind of sport or did you fight him once?" _Is he strong,_ she asked between the lines.

" _He's the vice president of the Wrestling Club. Sparred with him twice."_ Fiona allowed herself an air fist before placing one file atop the others. Hibari Kyoya was definitely the top of the list. The strongest fighter in the city—the school. She frowned. It was all about the school. No, not quite right again. She pushed the man-devil off the pile. He'd dealt with most these cases months, probably years ago. People in and around Namimori knew of him and his Committee and whoever still dared to brave him was made a quick example.

Therefore these people had to be _new._ New, deliberately provoking him, the students, the school, _somebody_ and they knew the ins and out of achieving their goal way too clearly for her liking. It couldn't be mere coincidence.

To follow such a specific goal, to target the school directly, you were either a student or...

She jumped up and stumbled for her laptop, fingers tapping away at the keys. She pinged Alessio on their private chat program. He gave green light. "Wait a sec, Elvis."

_"Wha—"_

She turned off the mute on her microphone. Knucklebone Eduardo is only ever used as _short-range_ reconnaissance. What's Vongola planning here? "Alessio, I need everything you can spit out on Namimori's neighborhoods, in and out of the city. 30 kilometer radius. Build-up of gangs, pit fights, whatever goes." The data raced across the monitor as he mirrored what MASK was getting once he forwarded her orders to her network of spies and with a beating heart Fiona browsed through her own files. _They couldn't possibly get past me. This is top-secret._

You were either a student or had a very specific list _ranking_ the strongest fighters of the school in a particular order. And you _need_ that list because you have no other means of finding whatever you're looking for. A crippled information network in this case; these attackers had to stay under the radar. Still they knew about Fuuta somehow when they shouldn't have. _It's supposed to be top-secret,_ she repeated. The boy was her responsibility. She rushed through her archives until—

Jackpot. Recent developments indeed. _  
_

"Contact Reborn. I think somebody may have broken the Omertá. Expect to initiate stage _Seneca_ soon. Logging out, keep me updated." She shut the laptop close and picked up her phone. The timing was too much of a coincidence. "Elvis?"

_"Do I even need to react to that?"_

She brushed his complaint off and slipped into her shoes, simultaneously reaching for a jacket with the free hand she got. "Keep the students calm. Gather them in one place if possible. And watch out for yourself, you're definitely going to be targeted as well." The higher they climbed the harder the fight would be. It could buy them the time she needed to pull this off.

_"And what are you going to—shit. We have a newcomer."_

Something in the way his voice dropped didn't resonate well with her. "Who is it?"

_"...Sasagawa Ryohei."_

Fingers lingering on the door handle, she froze but for the barest of moments. "Watch out," she whispered. The door slammed shut behind her. "Try not to get caught." She hung up and turned around.

"Namimori Jr. High, class 2-B, seat number 17, Benivieni Fiona." The barcode tattoo by his glasses was the only thing she saw as he righted them on his nose with a slim finger. "I believe you have been caught."

 

* * *

 

Red gleamed in the dark as the small boy crossed the distance between them. "Your abilities come in most handy, little Fuuta." Slender fingers stroked through bright brown strands, soft as feathers to the touch. "I wonder who will be next on the list. Somebody you know, perchance? That would be enjoyable to watch."

The boy knelt down and spread the precious tome open in front of the ripped and tattered couch the other was sitting on. All was going according to plan. He flipped through the book. Only a little more patience.

A tiny note slipped out between the pages, almost innocently hovering down in front of his feet. "Oh?" He picked it up and folded it open, amusement flickering through his mismatched eyes. A short sentence, nothing more, but a memory the boy held dear because he stiffened briefly in his actions, the hold on him ever so slightly loosening. How interesting. "Kufufufu."

_You should be more careful._

What an ironic warning to find in a situation like this. And much too late.

Red lit up as its gaze fell on the boy again. "Now, Fuuta. I think you should tell me a little more about this one." And the boy started singing his truths like the caged bird he was.

The wheels had already started turning to his favor.


	10. Two Sides of One Coin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Previously**
> 
> _Eyes steady and voice firm, she contrasted starkly to her usual self. "Take MASK. I want the whole network on it. First strings on the ready, Vongola will be right on our tails from the get-go. We need superb coordination to make sure nobody catches our trails."_
> 
> _"How long will this take?"_
> 
> _"A couple hours."_
> 
> _. . ._
> 
> _Fingers lingering on the door handle, she froze but for the barest of moments. "Watch out," she whispered. The door slammed shut behind her. "Try not to get caught." She hung up and turned around._
> 
> _"Namimori Jr. High, class 2-B, seat number 17, Benivieni Fiona." The barcode tattoo by his glasses was the only thing she saw as he righted them on his nose with a slim finger. "I believe you have been caught."_
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> .

_"Two hours is asking too much, even for you." The door had barely slammed shut when the laptop was stationed on the couch table, the master forger's voice filling up the living room once more.  
_

_Fiona grinned, blood pumping hot in her veins. "Not if you take the dirty shortcuts."_

_A brief silence. "This is borderline dangerous. Is MASK's network the only one you have left?"_

_"Pretty much."_

_He did not like the sound of it. "You shouldn't work outside regulations now that you're reinstated. This is the last second chance anyone will give you after Talvonziani."_

_She stretched, grin never leaving her face. "Don't worry. Nobody will notice a thing."_

 

* * *

 

The prefect scratched the back of his head upon Hibari's arrival, pointing at the ground dappled with blood. "The neighbors heard sounds of fighting but by the time we arrived, this is all that's left."

It was very little: the blood, a crooked and bent trash can, hundreds of needles littered all over the paved streets. Hibari stepped up to the most prominent object, a jacket flung carelessly to the side. He bent down to check the pockets.

"Hibari-san... what are you doing?"

An assault without a victim. A pair of sunglasses slipped out of an inside pocket, confirming his suspicion. The apartment complex was too close to be coincidence. Ignoring the curious stares of his men, he continued rummaging and came across a bulge in one of the outer pockets. A mobile phone. Without a second thought, he flicked it open.

An unsent message greeted him on the screen, missing its receiver, all but two words quickly scribbled down.

_Kokuyo Park_

He checked the time on his watch, comparing it to the time limit. 1 hour and 59 minutes. Only just.

 

* * *

 

Tsuna was breathing hard by the time he reached the hospital. He flung the door to one of the patient rooms open. "Big brother! Are you alright?"

Ryohei's lids fluttered open, turning his head towards the new visitor. "Ah, Sawada. You're quick." Tsuna's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the many bandages; the tubes leading to a crimson blood bag, constantly dripping, pumping. Catching his wandering eyes, Ryohei chuckled although it quickly ended in a pained wince. "I look really pathetic like this," he managed to say.

Tsuna approached the bed, tugging at his spiky hair. "Why did this happen to you?!" Out of all the people to be involved, why did it have to be Kyoko-chan's big brother?!

Reborn was quick to change the question into something formidable. "How are you feeling?"

Looking proud of himself, Ryohei placed a hand over his chest. "Six bones broken, seven cracked..." He opened his mouth and pointed inside. "And look: I lost five of my teeth," he finished. Tsuna reeled back on instanct, especially when the boxer didn't seem perturbed by his injuries in the slightest. No, he shrug his shoulders instead, ever spirited. "I've broken more bones and teeth during boxing."

 _That's not a laughing matter!_ his mind screeched. "Even though I had my guard down, he was a fearsome man." Tsuna stopped in his frenzy to blink.

"You saw the culprit?" he asked. Reborn's expression darkened when Ryohei nodded, sick Leon curling around his hat.

"Yeah, he even knew my name." Did they come for him delibaretly then? He couldn't understand why anyone would involve the boxed in any sort of gang fight or whatever this thing had escalated into. "The uniforms are from Kokuyo Middle School, from the next town over."

"M-Middle School?" They're middleschoolers just like them?!

Strangely solemn, Ryohei nodded. "Yeah." His eyes found the smaller boy's, drilling into them. "You be careful, too, Sawada."

Tsuna gulped. But he had nothing to do with it, right?

 

* * *

 

Giving Tsuna the time until he was done, both with his visit and panicking, Reborn distanced himself from the commotion to answer a call. "Ciaossu."

 _"Reborn,"_ the master forger greeted curtly. The baby hummed to himself. So she had been on the case since the beginning. Figures. _"I've been asked to forward information to you."_ Yet she didn't report to him in person but through a middleman. That was strange. A grim expression ghosted over his childish face as he was briefed. So his bad hunch hadn't been for naught.

But something did not sit well with him. "Where did you get this information from?"

 _"I'm afraid it's sealed inside Davy Jones' Locker now. No Coin, no info."_ Which roughly translates to ' _it's classified_ '. That little quirk of Fiona's started to annoy him now, adjusting everything to her epithet and own terminology, but there was certainty in the fact that she did not want her sources to be spread. She was undermining someone's or something's authority to get to the core of this mystery that much was a given and he'd bet his sick chameleon that she used outside sources to get her information.

Reborn squinted his eyes, staring at the wall. "Where is she now?"

Alessio clicked his tongue. _"She went quiet. Any other questions you'll have to relay over Vongola channels from now on. Do not mention my name, please. I'm officially nursing a hangover, not working on a case."  
_

Hopefully they had enough information to get on with the case despite. He hung up with a curt thanks, walking back to his protégé only to find a most curious scene unfold.

The vice-prefect of the Disciplinary Committee walked with the calmness of someone either accustomed to stressful situations or bound with the wisdom and abilities to resolve them. For the same reason he had specifically placed her into the Student Council, he bet on the latter, and suddenly he was certain that she left _something_ behind.

"So, nobody's seen any sign of the head?" Kusakabe asked. Reborn found it a tad bit too clear for his liking; as if he wanted everyone to hear him. His student perked up on the question, snapping out of his panic attack much too easily.

The other prefect nodded. "He went to investigate the scene of an assault where there was no victim but then he quickly went away. He's probably gone after the trail of the enemy!" He allowed himself a triumphant grin. "So, really, it's only a matter of time before the culprits are totally annihilated."

Kusakabe nodded as the talking pair passed them by. "I see. Good."

Tsuna instantly picked up on that. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah," said the stray classmate he chose to panic with.

"Hibari-san has gone to take care of the enemies!" The laughter of relief fizzed off his lips much too easily for his liking as well. Something didn't feel right with the whole case, its brutality.

The lull in assaults held roughly twenty minutes before they rolled in another victim. "Make way! Another Nami Jr. High student got beat up!"

Kusakabe did not look calm any longer the way he lay there in the stretcher, bleeding and hurt.

They had to take up the reins, fast. Reborn hopped onto the stretcher with the mangled body of the vice-prefect, prying open his mouth, ignoring all complaints. _Four._ Considering the speed of the attacks he saw it fit to reveal the secrets to his student. "There can be no doubt." Before any more people went quiet.

He sent Tsuna a sharp look. "The cause of all this fighting is you, Tsuna."

The boy took an involuntary step back. "What do you mean, _I'm_ the cause of all the fighting?! I thought it was a gang fight between the Disciplinary Committee and some other gang!"

Reborn didn't flinch in the slightest at the loud outburst. Leon did suddenly shift into a green hammer ins his hands as he got startled, though. His condition left the lizard more sensible to his surroundings next to his newfound fragility. Reborn looked his student square in the eye. "Do you remember how many teeth all the victims have lost?"

_They're counting down._

"How many...?" He couldn't just do all the talking, order action against the perpetrators. Tsuna had to learn himself, if he wanted to become a good boss. "Kusakabe, who was just beaten up, lost four, you said..." Reborn nodded and Tsuna continued. "Didn't Ryohei lose five? Before that..."

He was better off if he didn't know who the sixth rank was. Yet. Instead, the baby hitman picked up where he left off, placing the rails down for his student to follow. He could almost relate to the informant's line of work, different than he was used to as a hitman but there was little else he _could_ do. "The first person who got beaten up lost all 24 of his teeth. Since then, each successive victim has lost one less tooth than the previous one." He paused to let the words sink in. "The perpetrators are counting down with teeth." Leon wiggled uncomfortably in his hands.

"What the heck!"

"There's more," Reborn said. Alessio's voice ghosted in the back of his mind. _It's uncertain how they got past our defenses but fact is that they did. Someone broke the Omertá to help these people._ "I found a correlation. Take a look at this."

Tsuna carefully grabbed the piece of paper from his hands and read the twirly heading. "Namimori Junior High's Fighting Strength Ranking?" Big, brown eyes blinked uncertainly. "What about it?"

We're getting there. "You really are slow. The order of victims matches the ranking list exactly."

Big, brown eyes widened into something even bigger. "Eh?! For real?!" He watched him look over the list, check up on the names. Then he frowned, looking at the heading again and the signet above it. "This ranking list..."

Reborn nodded. "Yes. It's Fuuta's."

Tsuna looked at the baby with concern and confusion written all over his face. "What the hell is going on?"

Reborn settled in for a long explanation. "We Mafia have a code, the Omertá. It's a code that says, under no circumstances should a person reveal the secrets of his organization." _Somebody broke the Omertá to help these people. Fuuta would never betray our famiglia._ Alessio spoke the truth. "Fuuta's ranking lists are the entire industry's top secret. There's no way an ordinary person would have access to it. In other words, to get access to it means..."

_To get past La Pescatrice, Vongola's last line of defense.  
_

"Since the fourth-ranked Kusakabe was beaten, the third-ranked would be targeted next!" A simplified deduction but correct. He had the feeling there was more to it but he'd have to check up first. The color in Tsuna's face drained as he stared at the next name. "No way... w-what should we do, Reborn?!"

The baby pulled his hat lower. "Things are getting worse and worse. You go deal with it." _Rank 3 _—_ Gokudera Hayato. _ Technically he should be able to fend off his attacker long enough for them to pinpoint their enemies' location and take up real countermeasures.

"Me—?!"

"Yes." Davy Jones' Locker. An assault without victim. Someone got past the Mafia's intelligence defense line. It unnerved him. The master forger did the dirty business he usually avoided and the information stank to the sky. How did she even manage to get information at all when she was just recently reinstated? "I'm going to check out something that's bothering me."

_Rank 6 _— Benivieni Fiona.__

Out of all times to be missing, it has to be now. _ _  
__

 

* * *

 

_" **That's** your plan? Are you kidding me?"  
_

_She nodded. "Nobody can find out that the information is **not** coming firsthand from MASK. It'll have to look like he did his own research. His network operates outside Mafia law and if they knew it was me, I'd be shot down on the spot. MASK was involved in some heavy anti-Mafia campaigns, after all." She frowned, pursing her lips in thought. "But since someone outside the Mafia managed to get a hold of Fuuta and is currently in Namimori, we can turn the tables and place all blame on him once this is over."  
_

_"And then you'd say you planted men into their ranks to spy on their research instead of giving out confidential information yourself, I get it." Alessio cursed nonetheless. "You're breaking the Omertá with this. I should rat you out."_

_Fiona rolled her eyes. "When did I ever do something to compromise our family?"_

 

* * *

 

The random arrangement of bottles and books crumbled under the bowling ball's weight and speed as it levelled its way past the crude nine pin-like obstacles. "So what'd you do with him?" The blond licked his lips once he was certain of his strike. "The Nami High Boss—what was it? Sparrow? Duck?"

The blue-haired boy sat as casually as always, this time on the broken and withered seats of the bowling alley, watching the other rearrange the pins. "I took him out." The ever-present smile on his face only broadened at the pleasant memory. "We'll leave him unconscious until we've gotten all the teeth."

"Hyaaa~," the blonde half-growled, half-yowled. "So, he's still alive? That guy!"

Mismatching eyes scanned the area, fallen apart as it was. "Where's Chikusa?"

The blond picked up the bowling ball again. "Kakipi's gone after the third-ranked prey." He gave the heavy ball a test swing. "It's getting more and more tedious, so he didn't know about his chances, he said." With a dash, the ball crashed deafeningly loud onto the alley, racing forward and taking every pin down with it.

 

* * *

 

_Boom._

Tsuna spun around at the sound of an explosion. _Could it be?!_

His legs were quicker than his mind, following in the general direction he'd picked up the sound. It just had to be Gokudera! Another explosion, this time closer. He slid rightward into an alley, stumbling over his own feet before he caught himself and continued on. Thoughts spun in circles inside his mind, screaming at him _Gokudera is the third target, Gokudera is the third target!_ He had to hurry and warn him, even if they're in the middle of a fight. He had to do _something_ to prevent his friend from getting hurt like everyone else. Gokudera probably hadn't even heard of anything suspicious happening to the students.

Rounding the corner in anticipation of a bloody battle he was met with an unexpected sight—the bomber languidly stretched out on the street, puffing a cigarette.

"Gokudera-kun!"

Gokudera startled from his relaxed position. "Boss! Why are you here?"

Tsuna couldn't believe his own feelings when relief washed over him, unraveling the tight knot that had nestled into his chest the moment he lay an eye on Fuuta's list. The weight on his shoulder suddenly felt much lighter. Gokudera was completely fine! "Ah, uh... I just thought what if and stuff..." Even his mouth couldn't work properly anymore, the tenseness from before gone so quickly, it left him all wobbly on his knees and in mind. "Some rumor said, um, that Gokudera-kun was targeted by the Kokuyo Jr. High guys..."

"You came especially because of that?!" The infinite happiness appearing in his eyes was as genuine as his own one must've been at the sight of him. "Sorry for the trouble! I just took care of the guy!"

He just took—

" _EH?_ Then it's true!"

Gokudera nodded like a little, praised puppy. Tsuna was lost for words once more. _That's some way of turning on your attacker... Gokudera is really strong._ He shrug it off. All that mattered was that his friend was alright. They could deal with the attackers afterward, once they found Yamamoto and met up with Reborn again. _Yamamoto is the second-ranked fighter,_ he reminded himself. They had to think of where to find him if he wasn't at school either. Maybe at home? Where did he live anyway?

Still with a rare grin plastered to his face, Gokudera pointed out next to them onto the open street. "He's down there somewhere..." His words trailed off as his eyes jumped from one shop to the other that lined the street. "Wha—? He's not there!"

Tsuna snapped out of his thoughts. He followed his gaze but only saw smoking and battered stone and concrete.

"You saved me a lot of time."

Tsuna couldn't hold back a startled cry.

The boy before him was as battered as the street; olive uniform shredded and the skin beneath bleeding raw and red against pale. The white beanie was splotched with dark soot from the dynamites' impact. He shouldn't be able to stand at all, let alone walk towards them as he did, looking as threatening as ever.

 _Scary,_ Tsuna inadvertently thought, blocking all other thoughts out. This was their enemy. The ones behind the horrid attacks, behind Kyoko-chan's brother confined to a hospital bed with five teeth extracted in a cruel and painful manner.

_He only wants to hurt us. **Actually** hurt us._

Gokudera shifted back into a fighting stance. "Please be careful! His weapons are yo-yos!" _W-Weapons?_ Just thinking about being stabbed, pricked, cut, exploded or punched made his knees shiver and legs feel like lead.

"Even if you say that, I'm too scared to move—!"

Whatever happened next escaped his whole notice. The moment he saw the lean boy raise his bloodied arm for an attack, Tsuna snapped his eyes shut, arms raised over his face in some sort of mock-defense. He heard Gokudera yell, himself scream, the sound of taut threads stretching and spinning—but nothing hit _him_.

He cracked open one lid only to see the back of his friend in front of him, covering his body with his own, taking the full attack. _No,_ Tsuna thought with wide eyes as reality sunk in. No! This was Gokudera they were talking about, he didn't—couldn't—lose this easily!

But the voice that came out of Gokudera's throat didn't sound like his own; short of breath, in pain. "Tenth... please escape." What was he saying? He couldn't just...

Gokudera fell to his knees. Tsuna stared in horror. "Gokudera-kun! Are you all right? Gokudera-kun!" All this blood. No. _No._

Tsuna couldn't move. This was too much for him too handle. He was just a normal boy. Why did he have to get dragged into this, had to listen to Reborn, had to meet Fuuta and know about his lists—why did Gokudera have to defend him?

He'd only tried to help. And when he heard of a fight, he never imagined... he never thought it'd...

"He's broken," the scary guy said, not once flinching in pain despite his heavy injuries. Tsuna felt his body shiver in response. _Unnatural. Scary._ _Dangerous._ The impressions rained down on him, rooted him on the spot. "Now, come with me."

 _It's my fault. But if I don't run away, I'm dead...!_ Yet he couldn't. Like a mouse looking back up at the cat cornering it, he simply couldn't move from fear.

His face hit the floor as something heavy rammed into his ribcage and sent him slithering across the concrete. "This is called sliding into base. Safe!" The cheery laugh was like music to his ears, shattering the barrier of fear.

"Yamamoto!"

The tall baseballer gave him a warm, reassuring smile. "I was walking by and heard the ruckus." We're saved! No, not quite...!

"Gokudera-kun!" Tsuna shook the bomber by his shoulders but he was fast unconscious and ever-bleeding onto the street. Turning him to his side he saw that he'd taken the brunt of the needles to his chest. The uniform turned crimson red. "We have to do something!"

Yamamoto's expression turned dark as he nodded. "This guy..." He met the opponent's gaze head-on, the usual cheery eyes hard and mirthless. "He's not the quiet type, is he." Tsuna had never seen him lose his temper. The sight sent shivers down his spine.

Despite the injuries, the other didn't flinch back nor did he look intimidated. "You're in my way," he said instead, reaching back for another attack, twisting his arms hard and angry that the yo-yo's came at them with unstoppable speed and a long arc.

Yamamoto cut the threads clean in two.

Tsuna's face derailed in shock upon glancing the sharp blade in the teen's hand. _Since when did he start carrying his bat around?!_

Their enemy looked fazed for but the barest second before his hand went up to right the glasses on his nose. "I see. You're Namimori Jr. High, 1-A, seat number 15. Yamamoto Takeshi." Tsuna blanched. Yamamoto was placed second on the list, the next target after Gokudera. Did he seriously plan to fight him in the state he was in? The small boy's hand searched for the bomber's jacket, grabbing a handful of it.

Yamamoto's eyes turned cooler at the mention of his name. "What of it?" The grip on the sword tightened. They couldn't start another fight now. Gokudera wouldn't make it. They had to stop.

"Over here! This way, officer!" Their heads snapped around at the sound of footsteps and yells. A group of uniformed policemen ran towards the battle scene. "What are you boys doing?!"

The bloody and beaten boy turned his gaze back on Yamamoto. Tsuna couldn't get over the look in those eyes, completely unmoving and detached no matter the situation. "You're Ken's target. Fighting you would be a pain." And just like that he turned around and left battle ground, leaving them to watch him go with apprehension. Neither attempted to follow him. The battle was over.

"Hang in there, Gokudera!" Yamamoto's voice cut through the silence, blade turned bat again and lying forgotten on the ground. They'd won. Tsuna watched the blood cling to his hand where he'd held onto the soaked piece of clothing like a drowning man to a wooden plank.

But at what price?

 

* * *

 

"That would be a great help, Dino."

 _"It's for my little bro. Let me know if there's anything more I can do."_ The male paused on the other end. _"But this one is troublesome."_

Reborn nodded. "If they're the same ones that are causing this incident, then I can understand why they're using odd methods. They just broke out of prison and don't have any information on us."

 _"Yeah. Your informant is on the case to find out how they managed to get a hold of Fuuta."_ Dino chuckled at the small victory. _"He falls under her jurisdiction after all."_

Reborn gave a thoughtful hum. Really now. A missing person is able to continue working.

She'd have some explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of mystery. Lots of fishy terminology. Lots of Reborn, which is surprisingly fun! He's onto her, uh-oh. Thanks for reading and the lovely comments so far! :) Over and out.


	11. Fighters Assembled

"Why?" Bianchi's voice dripped with unadulterated hatred. She grabbed the basked filled with poisonous fruits tighter. "Why is Hayato _here_ instead of the hospital?"

One man either didn't care or heed the warning signs she radiated in her deadly purple color. "Bianchi-chaaaaaan!"

"Back off!" She kicked him square in the face.

Shamal picked himself up with the glaring red print of a shoe sole etched into his face. Driblets of blood escaped his nose. "Hey, now. I'm loaning him a bed only because Reborn asked. The hospital is too dangerous, he said."

Bianchi didn't look anything close to pacified, even at the mention of Reborn's name. Instead she drilled a finger into the doctors labcoat, right where his solar plexus was located. Shamal winced. "I'll look after Hayato. If you're going to get in my way, get out!"

Shamal shrug his shoulders, gently taking her wrist and turning it away from him. "If you say so. He'll recover from one thing and die from the other." His expression was completely blank.

Tsuna paled. "Indeed." Yamamoto laughed despite the seriousness of the statement.

Bianchi spun around, changing targets to vent her frustrations out. "Yamamoto Takeshi, just what is so funny?"

The baseballer backed off a step or two. "E-Eh, me?"

"Depending on the answer, I may kill you." She pushed the basked dangerously close to his face.

"I wasn't really..."

"Wasn't really _what_?"

Tsuna sighed before tuning the conversation out. They'd gathered in the infirmary of the school where Shamal waited for them to drop the beaten Gokudera off. At the same time it was the only safe haven they had left to rest and take a break; let the happenings of the day sink in. Bianchi had appeared sometime later when most of the hectic chaos had subsided.

Yet even with Bianchi all flustered the second she entered the infirmary, it took this one moment of calm for the small boy to fully register the extent of the events unfolding. Looking at Gokudera lying there, attached to a respirator, that's when it truly hit him. _It's all my fault that Gokudera-kun is here._

_Mine and mine alone.  
_

He exited the infirmary to catch some air. If Yamamoto hadn't been there in time, hadn't pushed him away, cut the strings, even helped him carry Gokudera's body when the ambulance just wouldn't get to them fast enough.

Would he even be standing here, completely unscathed?

Tsuna slid down the nearby wall and tore at his own hair. "I'm such an idiot!" He banged his head against the wall. A prickling throb rewarded him. Crazy. Everyone, everything was crazy, mad. And he was the worst of them all. Because he couldn't help even when he wanted to. "I only got in the way! I shouldn't have gone! I—" Something dripped on his head. He looked up.

"Ciaossu." Reborn in a green, gooey _something_ attached to the ceiling.

"What the heck is that?!"

The baby shrug his shoulders. "Leon's finally settled down and entered a cocoon state."

"Cocoon?!" Now that he took a closer look, he could see the thin outlines of closed eyes and a mouth—wait a moment. "What are you doing at a time like this? Things have turned really bad here and you just disappeared!"

Reborn hopped down and landed gracefully on the smooth tiles. "I was investigating a prison break that happened in Italy."

"A prison break?" Tsuna asked perplexed. What had a prison break to do with this mess they were stuck in?

Reborn nodded. "Yes. Two weeks ago there was a break-out at a high-security prison reserved only for the most dangerous Mafia criminals who have committed grave crimes." Tsuna gulped. When Reborn started a story like that, things just couldn't end well. "The one leading the prison break was a young man named Mukuro." The bad feeling tightened to a knot in his stomach.

The baby started to pace up and down a pair of tiles. "Our information network tracked him down and found that he, along with two subordinates that broke out with him, was headed for Japan. And suddenly three students enroll in Kokuyo Middle School as returning foreign students." Tsuna's blood ran cold. He couldn't be serious. But Reborn continued and with each sentence, Tsuna felt his body freeze up, limb by limb. "As soon as they enrolled, they took control of all the hoodlums. That was 10 days ago." He paused. "The new gang leader's name is Rokudo Mukuro."

The words just spluttered out of him, mouth trying to keep up with the rapid downward spiral of his thoughts. "The same guy who broke out of prison?! Why are they targeting us?" Such scary people couldn't be after a group of middleschoolers for no apparent reason. Then he remembered what Reborn had said, that they were after _him._ It suddenly made sense. Terrifying sense. "Does that mean our opponents are also in the Mafia?"

"The opposite." Tsuna blinked in confusion when Reborn clicked his tongue. "These people have been exiled from the Mafia."

Exiled? A vague memory tugged at the back of his mind, Gokudera yelling something similar...

_Gokudera scoffed. "Yeah, loyalty. She's practically exiled."_

His heart dropped to new depths. How had it slipped his mind? He dreaded the answer as soon as he asked the question but he had to know, even if it was bad news. "Where's Fiona-san?"

He could not believe he'd forgotten about one of his friends.

Reborn shrug his small shoulders nonchalantly. "Who knows?" Tsuna's jaw fell open. _How can you be so relaxed in a situation like this?!_ The baby pulled out his own copy of Fuuta's list. "She's ranked sixth so she should've been taken out long before Ryohei. So far nobody's seen or heard anything of her."

"S-She just disappeared?" The baby hitman nodded. Tsuna felt the panic rise and choke him from the inside. If both Ryohei and Gokudera were in hospital and even Hibari hadn't returned, what were the chances of her getting out of this alive and well? "What should I do?!" he yelled. Everything around him was falling apart.

"You'll just have to defeat Mukuro," Reborn said with his ever-squeaky voice.

"There's no way I can beat guys like them!"

"Even if there's no way, you have no choice but to do it now." Tsuna looked up. _Eh?_ "This is a letter for you from the Ninth."

 _Eeeeeeh?_ "The Ninth?! No way!"

Reborn pulled the letter out of its envelope and started reading: " _'Dear Vongola the 10th. I've heard from Reborn about how much you've grown. It seems like the time has come for you to take the next step. I am giving you an order: capture Rokudo Mukuro and the other two escapees and rescue their captive. I wish you luck.'_ Isn't it great, the Ninth writing to you for the first time?" No, it's not! He didn't want anything to do with the Mafia! He didn't want anything to do with these battles!

"Ah, I forgot. _'P.S. If you refuse, you'll be branded a traitor and will be kille—'"_

That was the cherry on top, and this time it pummeled the whole cake underneath. Tsuna jumped to his feet. "This has nothing to do with me!" And just like that he turned his back on the baby and ran as far, far away from this place as his feet would carry him.

 

* * *

 

Rokudo Mukuro lounged on his favorite rotten couch by the windows when the sound of footsteps caught his attention. "Ah~ Is that Chikusa?" he asked into the dark.

The footsteps closed in on him until the boy fell over to his feet, body battered and exhausted. Mukuro leaned down, amusement flickering through his features. "You found the one, hm?"

"Is Kaki-pi back—hyaaa, you look pathetic!" Ken knelt down next to the unmoving body, all toothy smiles as he inspected him close-up. "All covered with blood and burnt to a crisp! How rare, cooked rare." He barely caught the saliva drippings with his arm, cleaning up the corners of his mouth with a swipe that left half the uniform wet. His eyes gleamed hungry. "Looks delicious~"

"Drop, Ken!" The blond went still at the command. "He's just unconscious. There's no way Chikusa would return empty-handed without information on the Vongola." The red of his eyes seemed to brighten at the prospect of them finally achieving what they came to Japan for. "Let's wait for him to wake up."

 

* * *

 

Tsuna didn't regret it. Running away.

At least that's what he told himself.

 _If you refuse, you'll be branded a traitor and will be killed_ —who in their right minds would go along with that?! This had nothing to do with him, he could care less about the hostage, too! These dangerous people couldn't be looking for him. There was nothing in it even if they were. There's nothing to gain from No-Good Tsuna.

Yet why did his heart not stop aching? Tsuna stared at the road ahead, the endless concrete. _I can't work for the Mafia, but at this rate..._

Fiona-san disappeared, Kyoko-chan's brother was in hospital care, Gokudera grounded as well and even Hibari apparently couldn't hold out against the enemy, going after them but never returning. Yamamoto simply had been lucky to not get involved yet but it could've been him at any time during the morning. it was hard to believe all of this had happened over the course of a few hours once the first news had settled in. It simply showed the supremacy of their enemies.

"No matter how much you run, they'll keep coming after you. There's no place left to feel secure." Tsuna startled at the voice but he quickly recognized the childish squeak.

"Reborn!" The baby hitman appeared next to him on a garden wall, tiny feet dangling freely over the ground. Tsuna bit his lip. "What should I do? I can't fight them!" _I'm too scared_ , he wanted to add but Reborn probably knew that. His hands couldn't stop trembling.

Reborn's expression was as unreadable as ever. "No, you already know what you should do." But even then, the shadow cast over his eyes suddenly seemed very real. "Don't forget what those guys have already done in order to find you."

His heart constricted painfully. He needn't remind him—he knew what they'd done. When he thought of the way Ryohei was all bandaged up but still laughing for his sister's sake; how sudden the vice-prefect had been turned bloody and why Gokudera had been hurt into unconsciousness in the first place. He could recall it in all clarity.

"That's..." _And if I keep on running there'll be only more victims._ He pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows. "I think what they're doing is wrong, involving everyone like that. Mukuro makes me angry!" Then he looked down, staring at his feet. "But even Hibari-san hasn't come back. There's no way No-Good Tsuna could defeat a guy like that. It's impossible."

The baby hummed in thought. "But that's not what the people around you think." _Eh?_

"Oh! There you are." The sound of footsteps interrupted his line of thoughts. Tsuna turned around with a beating heart. That voice... "Let me go with you, Tenth!" The silver hair was clean, no trace of red left, body standing as firm on his feet as though nothing had happened. "This time I'm gonna kill that spectacles freak." The wild grin was brilliant.

"Gokudera-kun?!" Tsuna couldn't believe his eyes. "What about your wounds?"

As if on cue the shiny appearance staggered, his face turning sick and weak and blue. "What, those little scratches?" Tsuna's jaw fell in shock. Don't play them down!

Another pair of feet stepped up to them. "I'm going, too, Tsuna!" The small boy spun around to spot the baseballer smiling his usual merry smile. "I heard it from the kid. You're playing Mafia with another school."

The corner of his lips twitched. _You were tricked, Yamamoto._

"I'll go, too." The sultry-deep voice could only belong to—"I'm worried about Hayato." Bianchi's sudden appearance on the street sent the already sick boy vaulting into the ground, giving in to his wounds. _Exactly the reverse effect._ But it was too late to do anything, least of all save his friend. Besides, to reprimand Bianchi to the face only resulted in an early death.

Reborn hopped down the wall and smiled up at them. "We've got the people we need to charge into enemy territory now." Tsuna blanched.

"Hold on a minute, we don't even know where these guys are!"

A suspicious glimmer flashed through his baby-black eyes. "Even if she's not with us right now, our informant did her part of the job. Before you guys even noticed something was off, she was on the scene and working. I have all the information that we would need." _Sunglasses glint in the light. "Information is my job."_ Right, Fiona did say something along those lines. But could it really be that she had worked on it all alone all this time?

Yamamoto placed a hand on his shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Fiona-chan is tough. She'll be fine."

Reborn nodded. "Yes, we should worry more about their hostage. He should be there as well."

"Hostage?" Tsuna gulped. Who could it be?

"Someone you know very well."

 

* * *

**Vinci, Tuscany**

* * *

 

Alessio was a patient man. You have to be in the forger business.

Sure, things can grow hectic, especially when someone orders forged passports into no-entry warzones for a group of twenty. He'd usually task one of his newest apprentices to take off some of the workload and everything else righted itself in such cases. It was a good business for someone that didn't want to get involved on the frontlines; someone who didn't like spreading his opinion regarding politics around; someone who didn't enjoy sticking his head into someone's else pie.

He had Fiona for that.

The previously inactive light flashed green when the stranger spoke. "Why are you so interested in this case, MASK?" The woman drew out the name with the slightest purr.

Alessio cursed under his breath. For all it is worth: he didn't like the situation he was in. Oh no. Nonetheless he leaned closer to the microphone connected to the voice changer and activated it.

 _If someone keeps asking questions—MASK is haughty. Keeps his distance and reasons to himself until the right moment because he knows he has the upper hand. **Always.**_ "Why should you be bothered to know? It'll just weigh your pretty head down." _Click_ , the microphone settled back to mute. He felt sweat form on his temple. Screw the previous statement—he _hated_ his current position. This was Fiona's playground. Whatever she had going with these people, it was dangerous and he thoroughly regretted not ratting her out when he still had the chance.

She'd just shrug it off. That's probably the reason she did these jobs and not he. He valued any chance at normalcy and the prospect of raising a family one day that didn't involve crazed, coffeine-addicted informants constantly two-timing on their every contact and contract. And let's not even get started on the other adoptive kid in his care.

While Alessio was born into the Mafia—and you never leave once you're in—he'd taken his time to study in France. The fine arts and art history. It was a time of normalcy for him: he enjoyed faking originals until it was impossible to distuingish where his work began and the ancient artist's intention ended.

Well, as normal as Mafia-bred gets you. You have to develop _some_ form of deficit to make it big in the Mafia. Anyone else is lying and should be pointed to Poison Scorpion Bianchi for some correcting. Working, living, breathing the Mafia was a maddening act.

And Alessio was a patient man despite it all.

An informant was seldom alone, despite popular belief. Fiona could handle simple, even intricate, information-gathering on her own. She could collapse entire databases of information when she wanted something to disappear simply because, and he quotes, _you can't stop a tsunami from drowning you._ With the age of sixteen she'd reached her peak, the name _La Pescatrice_ known Mafia-wide as the Vongola Reconnaissance Branch's last line of defense. Anything past that line and CEDEF starts kicking in, though that's a secret only a selected few know. Alessio hadn't known. That is until Fiona stuck her head where it didn't belong and fished out things she shouldn't. He liked being valued for his work, not bribed for his silence. It tends to shatter his cool.

Yet when someone asks you to find out something about mysterious culprit [x], whose whereabouts you don't know and who therefore lives in the unknown location of [y], while constantly harassing you in a seemingly random factor [z]—no informant handles that kind of load alone. It requires the same degree of assistance as his no-entry warzone does: you call in your personal network of spies.

The female known to him only under her alias _Interludium_ hummed on her side of the screen. The rest of the anonymous personae kept quiet, listening and weighing each word exchanged. "The, let's say, _coincidence_ is striking, is it not?" She wholly ignored the compliment on her looks. He never liked dating women online.

 _Keep it cool._ Just keep it cool and patient and haughty. He leaned forward again. "I had not been aware of one. Do enlighten me."

"Your recent downtime in correlation to a certain other person's resurfacing. She currently resides in Namimori, does she not? The target of attack." A brief pause. "Openly at that. It's been a while since we picked her up on our radars once again."

How Alessio hated working with Fiona's networks. Especially the illegal ones. Why did he ever take her in as his niece again? He should burn the documents.

 _They'll try to pressure you, don't worry. It's a routine. They're wary of his knowledge._ "Ah," he drawled out. "Your suspicions are warranted. We all know her preferred guise and trickery, after all." The silence stretching on afterward tore at his patience but he couldn't give in. He had to stay the only virtue he possessed and briefly wondered how far she'd shaped MASK's personality after his. Just in case she disappears without a trace. Like right now.

They caved in first, as he wanted. "You would not deny the possibility of a _spy_ among our ranks then?" Interludium punctured the word 'spy' like a needle skin.

Considering the spy is the mysterious information broker she was just talking to. Yeah, definitely. "I would never dare to imply such denial in the first place. In our line of work, safety is an illusion." He paused for drama. "Much too costly a mistake to make." Also this stilted way of talking would break his tongue by the end of the day. His eyes slid over the flow of information on another monitor, the steady updates to the live map of Japan. The arrows leading to and away from the isle, each an army of their own. "One the Vongola is paying already."

"A small loophole in comparison to other weaknesses in their defense we know about. So it has me curious, this small case." She sounded almost snippy, the way she disregarded the topic all the while trying to uphold a sense of superiority even through a monitor. "You still haven't answered me. Why the sudden interest? Why the first string?"

He allowed himself only the briefest pause, one look cast to the side. MASK's network policy was simple: whoever he deemed valuable, he would recruit. The first string—15 people, judging from the state of the chat room—were the best of the best: hackers and spies, pros at espionage, ruthless in their tactics and _very_ effective. Why they would gather under his name, a neutral information broker, he had never been certain. Some of them were mercenaries. But the rest? They hung around him for a single reason:

MASK is the single-best backdoor into the Mafia business. He was considered the counter-part to the infamous La Pescatrice, the last line of defense when it came to secrets.

Not that anyone apart from the master forger knew that they were one and the same person. The tug-of-war is puppeteered by yours truly.

Alessio took a deep breath. It's time to initiate stage Seneca. "She has been in that city for quite some time now. What is she doing, I wondered, so I watched. Why is she not welcomed back, so I dug around. Why does nobody fix the holes her crumbling defense leaves open, so I abused them for personal gain." He shouldn't be doing this. Her plan was ridiculous. "This is what I found. Perhaps you should take a proper look at these files. Your perspective on the mission might change." He sent two folders, watched the download bar speed up to max. "I hope to gain answers to all these questions. And this boy will pave me the way."

The female gasped. "This is...! How did you know that the Ranking Boy is involved—?"

Let the tug-of-war begin. On another note, he hoped _Nono_ knew of this operation.

Alessio let the arrogance drip off his next words. "Questioning me again? You realize this boy will belong to me when this mission is over. It should be in your best interest to stay your inane inquiries and continue working." He mimicked her way of words, turning suspicion against him into greed for something else entirely. Fiona better had those pattern right. Prior to this, these people had had only the vaguest idea of Fuuta's existence, one of the best-kept secrets of the Mafia world. He was a gold mine when it came to information, his rankings nearly infallible.

And these people all had networks of their own, they'd want him in their possession now that they knew he was more than just a legend. Fiona's plan was to bet on time and greed as a factor: if they weren't able to mobilize their networks in time to intercept him, they'd have to work with him to the end. Their only chance to get to Fuuta was to try to track down MASK afterward. So they had to do that first to them, too.

_We can turn the tables and place all blame on him once this is over._

She never wanted to figure out how the culprits found out about Fuuta in the first place. That mystery would have to unravel itself once they were caught. No, Fiona instead made sure to clean up after them so nobody would follow. And if she had to lay down a lure first to see who she'd attract, she'd do so.

If somebody found out about this, no amount of explaining would get them out. If they didn't manage to arrest these people, each and every _anonymous_ one of them, they would be in trouble. If MASK still existed afterward, and someone managed to trace him back to Fiona, they'd be in huge trouble.

It suddenly came to him that she never explained the latter part of her plan. You know, the part where they catch the bad guys. Alessio actually blanched at that.

A young male rudely interrupted his line of thoughts, green voice light glowing in rapid turns with the speed of his rant. "The Vongola Reconnaissance Branch just made their move! They're dogging our trail. How did they...?"

Interludium barked at him. "Check for malign code. Don't let them find our locations!"

"Already underway."

And then a whirlwind of voices started up. "My files, everything we just researched...!"

"What's going on?!"

Low and raspy, a different male chose his moment to answer. "They didn't hack us." Alessio grasped the edge of his chair, heart beating up to his throat. "We hacked into their system. Their main one."

Interludium wasn't one for jokes, apparently. "If you have something to say, say it!"

The male chuckled deeply. "A cheap trick but we got taken by surprise. She was reinstated but powerless." Alessio watched as the live map blacked out, symbols racing across the screen, his computer booting up programs without his consent. It was nothing but a colorful mess of numbers, letters and symbols, as unreadable as it was random, and from the sounds of it, it was happening to everyone in the chat room.

"What happened?" he asked into the voice-changing microphone. At the same time he couldn't keep his eyes off the full _Download Complete_ bar. The files he'd sent. Could it be coincidence? One by one the people dropped out of the chats, probably to destroy their hardware and run.

"Smuggled a piece of code within some of our researched data so it'd rewrite everything we have into this gibberish. It's all gone. What was it again? She _sunk the ship_ in fishy terminology." He snorted, found this undeniably funny. "Like running is gonna help now. She probably has logged entries of the access points used within the loopholes, too. Hell, I bet her swarm let us in on purpose so she could track us."

"But why now?" Interludium asked, voice shaking with restrained anger. "This has been going on for months!"

Alessio chose to answer. His head spun with all sorts of numbers. "The code reacted to a keyword." The moment Fuuta's files were shared, Fiona's trap had sprung. The files were rigged to explode in their faces!

The raspy voice chuckled once more. It was only six of them left now. "For someone with a crippled network, the only way to get hold of information is to steal them from others."

Again, Interludium did not laugh. If anything she sounded desperate. "Nobody could've known about this operation, about the stakes. Trace it back to its origin!" Alessio watched with fascination as the tug-of-war reached its peak, double-edged sword striking in two places at once. Fiona's playground indeed. High risk but also a high reward.

"The IP-adress is bouncing across the whole globe; companies, banks, universities. Probably a dozen more to act as proxies, I can't keep up fast enough."

It was the raspy voice who gave the final blow. "Don't you get it? The backdoor was probably already _in_ our systems by the time this operation started. She silently kept track of everything we were doing, who we were contacting and what information was leaking out without interfering _for months_. Until she caught a real big fish and decided it was time to act—you, MASK." The words slammed into their faces with the brute force of a wrecking ball. "Simply put: that woman was never gone in the first place. I bet you those loopholes were just for show; a lure," echoing Fiona's words in a wholly different setting. "So, yeah. We have a major leak, lads."

She used both Fuuta and her declining reputation as a lure. No, even the years-old identity of MASK was one. All that work, only to reach a single peak before falling apart in one giant explosion.

As if on cue the screen with the messy symbols blacked out once more only to turn white afterward. Staring at him was a simple quote, written black on white.

  
_Alium silere quod voles, primus sile._

If you wish another to keep your secret, first keep it yourself.

**— Seneca**

The people previously quiet turned up the volume, exchanging heated blows and accusations the instant the words sunk in. Interludium finally exited the chat, curses lost in translation halfway into the commotion. Alessio leaned back and celebrated the sudden turn of events. Nobody knew she was the snag on both sides of the investigation. Knowing where her loyalties lay, yet keeping the spy in the system, she was both attacker and defender in this case. One to make sure the assaults are stopped, the other to clean up after her and keep the honorary title of _last line of defense_ burning high and mighty. She'd blatantly abused an illegal identity's information network to get information as quick as possible in an attempt to save lives, and now she'd cast aside that identity just as easily because it was past its use.

Any moment and Vongola would know the location of not only the hackers and spies but also the attackers in Japan. And they'd think it was The Fisher planting a spy that caught these guys. Alessio couldn't keep the relieved laughter from bubbling up. Because The Fisher is MASK and MASK is The Fisher. The greatest backdoor is also the greatest defense and it's all veiled in impenetrable shadows.

He was a patient man and this world too volatile for his liking. He hated working in her stead, act as the middleman, lie to authorities and keep secrets he shouldn't be involved in in the first place. That's why he had Fiona for that sort of thing.

You can't stop a tsunami from drowning you. So cocky, but so well deserved.

 

* * *

 

_She resists a groan. He can hear that. "This whole assault aside, there is the fact that someone managed to get a hold of Fuuta's rankings. Did you manage to contact him?"_

_"No." He's mysteriously vanished and Alessio dreads her next words already. Something rattles in the background, a loud shriek._

_She doesn't dwell on it too long. "Alright, so someone kidnapped Fuuta instead. Wonderful." Her breath is ragged, he notices. She curses under her breath. "I'm stressed right now. Is it noticeable?"_

_"Very."_

_"Shit." The rustle of bushes and he wonders how much stress could make her forgo her vanity. That must leave scratches for sure. "I'm going to kill someone when this is over." Ah, she's not completely forgotten herself then. "Anyhow, what I meant to say is, that you're going to send my files on Fuuta over to MASK's network."_

_The tea he's been drinking sputters all over his papers. "_ __**That's** your plan? Are you kidding me?"_ _

__There's a harsh bark and an even harsher **shh!** and only after the dog whimpers into the phone does she speak up again. _ "Nobody can find out that the information is **not** coming firsthand from MASK. It'll have to look like he did his own research. His network operates outside Mafia law and if they knew it was me, I'd be shot down on the spot. MASK was involved in some heavy anti-Mafia campaigns, after all." A pause filled with happy panting. What the? "But since someone outside the Mafia managed to get a hold of Fuuta and is currently in Namimori, we can turn the tables and place all blame on him once this is over. That way, there'll be nothing left of Fuuta. All the bad guys would be caught."_

_"And then you'd say you planted men into their ranks to spy on their research instead of giving out confidential information yourself, I get it. It would look as the people who are attacking you contacted MASK for information beforehand. And The Fisher is hot on their trails to save the day. Nobody will know how truly dangerous these guys are while the defense stays a strong as ever." Alessio curses nonetheless. "You're breaking the Omertá with this. I should rat you out."_

_He can almost imagine her rolling her eyes._ _"When did I ever do something to compromise our family?"_

_He grits his teeth, backed into a corner. Just then the live map narrows down to a position; just then Fiona curses in pain, rustle of leaves growing hectic, frantic. "I can't keep running forever, Alessio!" A loud crash, a soft but forceful voice, something whirring. "Seriously, respect your elders, Barcode-Boy!"  
_

_Alessio doublechecks, fingers typing away. It's all or nothing now. "Kokuyo Par—"  
_

_The phone cuts off._

 

* * *

**Namimori Jr. High**

* * *

 

The mosquito buzzed almost inaudibly as it flew off the needle and out of the open windows of the infirmary. Shamal gathered the remainder of his medicine and recapped the bottles, dropping the needle into a jar filled with dozen others. His eyes lingered on the container for a moment longer. "This is coated with some serious poison." He shook his head as he remembered the boy's plea, continuing to wrap up his work. "For such a situation there really is no choice, huh."

Just as he was about to head out, the faintest curse reached past the doors and into his office.

"That little chickenshit _bastard_."

Shamal couldn't deny the grin its proper place on his face. "This lovely temper can only be—"

She stopped him with a deadly glare before he even had the chance to embrace her. The caramel hair hung loose and unbraided for once, going just past her breasts in messy waves, strands cloggy with blood. "You better have a shot ready or I'll fire one at you."

"You could shoot me all day long— _mmmph!_ " Her hand clamped over his mouth, green eyes pulsing with anger, further enhanced by the lacerated wounds paving a way across her face.

But the torn lips moved to speak a deathly prayer he could not withstand looking at. "I'm _this_ close to killing someone, Shamal." She pressed her face closer, filling his whole vision. "Do you know how much effort goes into this look ever day and night? The price of these clothes? He ripped off my fucking _hair!_ What is the world going to think of me if I show up with tattered hair! My first impressions are _ruined_."

Shamal had never seen green flames before. Her eyes came quite close to it the way she pressed him into the wall in a very uncomfortable angle, flames licking for revenge. "You got something else to say, smartass?"

What did he hear circulating among school once? Queen of Ogres? But that would be disastrous.

Instead he smiled his killer smile, carefully holding her at appropiate woman-ready-to-kill-distance by placing his hands on her shoulders. Women could be very dangerous in this state. "We better hurry this up. I've been briefed to see to a tiny mission by a similarly tiny baby."

Fiona returned a wicked grin. "Fine by me. I want payback."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! She's resurfaced! We found her! Oh god she's turned mad but we found her!
> 
>  **Some useful information, maybe:**  
>  A _proxy server_ acts as an intermediary for requests from _clients_ (e.g. your computer) seeking resources from other servers. Your computer connects to the proxy in need of information and files and the proxy conveys it to another server/computer in question before returning the required information back to you. A casual use for proxies is in countries where certain services (such as youtube) are restricted or even forbidden. If you want to see the videos despite, you'll have to connect to youtube through an American proxy for example. Your computer asks the proxy for the video, the proxy forwards it to the American server (changing your _IP_ ) and returns the video unrestricted back to you.
> 
> The _IP_ acts as a unique internet identification of your computer and makes it easy to locate it, wherever it may be in the world. Disguising your IP-Adress through numerous proxies (as used in this chapters) is done so that others cannot trace back your location since they have to go through lots of fake IPs first. By then you can be long gone.


End file.
